Silly, Silly Book Series: Deathly Hallows
by iheartmwpp
Summary: Because no matter how much we may love it, nothing is without flaws. Contains everyone on both sides not being nearly as smart as they could've been, important and talented characters being constantly underutilized even when we just learned important things about them, and Hermione being continuously wrong about everything.
1. Grab That Idiot Ball Over There

_A/N: AWRIGHT, LAST ONE BITCHES! That's right, every Saturday for the next six weeks you get more parody-ness, and then...I'll finally be done with making fun of Harry Potter until I guess the Fantastic Beast movies, unless of course those turn out to be the pinnacle of perfection. That'll be...really weird...For the first time in nearly four years this August, I won't be making fun of Harry Potter...So it's TOTALLY time to attempt a psychological horror story after this, amirite? :3_

_This story will also be posted at the Archive Of Our Own dot Org website, under all the same information, since that site gives writers a little bit more freedom with...well, everything, especially when it comes to randomly slipping in song lyrics/TITLES into the story. Nothing taken out this chapter, but later chapters will have noticeable missing jokes that can be viewed in full at that site instead of this one because I've had several incidents in the past where shit's been deleted for stupid reasons (seriously, what the hell's wrong with script format, no one has been able to explain this) and I don't want another incident even as I'm already resigned to the fact that another will most likely happen. HOORAY FOR NON-CEASING OPTIMISM! _-_-

**Disclaimer:** In addition to Dracarot and AllSolsDay's occasional deep insight, as usual, Rifftrax covered the first half of the movie so their quotes will frequent the first half of the book. Also the Two Best Friends Play channel on YouTube fits far too well with my brand of humor so I've taken a lot from them. I don't even have a tumblr and I know of memes, and mascara commercials are annoying. Oh and there's something about a book about motorbikes or something I guess.

* * *

They turned right, into a wide driveway that led off the lane. The high hedge curved with them, running off into the distance beyond the pair of impressive wrought-iron gates barring the men's way. Neither of them broke step: In silence both raised their left arms in a kind of salute and passed straight through, as though the dark metal were smoke.

Narcissa, who had been watching them from one of the windows, turned to Lucius.

"Honey, the front gate is immaterial again, did you call the guy?"

* * *

"Where are they going to hide the boy next?" asked Voldemort.

"At the home of one of the Order," said Snape. "The place, according to the source, has been given every protection that the Order and the Ministry together can provide, sans Fidelius. Unfortunately the source could not tell me _which_ home the Order intended to use, nor could we make an educated guess as to where Potter would be taken considering we know so very little of where he used to stay over summer and winter holidays. No, I'm afraid that we are quite in the dark on this one."

* * *

"Well, Yaxley?" Voldemort called down the table, the firelight glinting strangely in his red eyes, which makes no sense considering the fire is _behind _him.

* * *

"I have been careless, and so have been thwarted by luck and chance, those wreckers of all but the best-laid plans…of mice and men…which often go wrong anyway so this is really crappy reasoning and I'm just going to stop talking now."

* * *

At these words, seemingly in response to them, a sudden wail sounded, a terrible, drawn-out cry of misery and pain. Many of those at the table looked downward, startled, for the sound had seemed to issue from below their feet.

"Wormtail," said Voldemort, with no change in his quiet, thoughtful tone, and without removing his eyes from the revolving body above, "have I not spoken to you about keeping our prisoner quiet?"

"Yes, m-my Lord," gasped a small man halfway down the table, who had been sitting so low in his chair that it had appeared, at first glance, to be unoccupied. Now he scrambled from his seat and scurried from the room, leaving nothing behind him but a curious gleam of silver.

"Merlin's bright magenta feathered boa," muttered Voldemort, "he can master the Animagus transformation at fifteen-ish, he can manage _avada kedavra_, and he can even perform a ceremony to bring me fully back to life, but he can't pull off a simple Silencing Charm. Sometimes I worry about that man…"

* * *

Malfoy glanced sideways at his wife. She was staring straight ahead, quite as pale as he was, her long blonde hair hanging down her back, but beneath the table her slim fingers closed briefly on his wrist. At her touch, Malfoy put his hand into his robes, withdrew a wand, and passed it along to Voldemort, who held it up in front of his red eyes, examining it closely.

"What is it?"

"A wand, my Lord," whispered Malfoy.

"No, what's it made of?"

"Oh. Elm, my Lord."

"And the core?"

"Dragon — dragon heartstring."

"Also a lot of gorilla glue?"

"I slammed it in the car door, my Lord."

* * *

Why doesn't Voldemort hang onto both wands? As impractical as dual-wielding wands probably is in execution, the visual's exceptionally badass, especially if someone like Harry or Neville pulled it off…

* * *

"No higher pleasure…even compared with the happy event that, I hear, has taken place in your family this week?"

She stared at him, her lips parted, evidently confused as he started bouncing up and down in his seat and letting out a high-pitched giggle, his hands flailing slightly.

"I don't know what you mean, my Lord."

"I'm talking about your niece, Bellatrix. And yours, Lucius and Narcissa. She has just married the werewolf, Remus Lupin. You must be so proud."

And there was much rejoicing.

* * *

"Yes…Professor Burbage taught the children of witches and wizards all about Muggles…how they are not so different from us, just because they're also classified as _Homo_ _sapien_, have the exact same biological structure, eat similar foods, have a concept of cognitive thinking, and the only difference between us is that some of us can make feathers float and the rest can't. Clearly she should be murdered for this."

* * *

"Dinner, Nagini," said Voldemort softly, and the great snake stayed where she was because he was speaking English and she didn't understand what he was saying.

* * *

Harry was bleeding. No one was surprised.

* * *

Kneeling down beside the trunk again, he groped around in the bottom and, after retrieving an old badge that flickered feebly between _Support CEDRIC DIGGORY_ and _POTTER STINKS,_ a cracked and worn-out Sneakoscope, and a gold locket inside which a note signed R.A.B. had been hidden which he had carried at all times at the end of the previous book so why would he have so thoughtlessly discarded it at the beginning of this one, he finally discovered the sharp edge that had done the damage.

* * *

…He's leaving behind his cauldron but taking his potion-making kit?

* * *

Very Albus Dumbledore. Much Remember. Wow.

by Elphias Doge

* * *

Stripping away the popular image of serene, silver-bearded wisdom, Rita Skeeter reveals the disturbed childhood, the lawless youth, the lifelong feuds, and the guilty secrets that Dumbledore carried to his grave, because finding out that a celebrity is in fact human with human problems is obviously ever so important and we could really be talking about everyone on the planet right now.

* * *

"Lies!" Harry bellowed, and through the window he saw the next-door neighbor, who had paused to restart his lawn mower, look up nervously. Miraculously, the Dursleys did not comment even though they were right downstairs.

* * *

Oh hey, Hestia says Voldemort's name. That's awesome. And hopefully won't backfire horribly while they're in hiding.

* * *

It felt most strange to stand here in the silence and know that he was about to leave the house for the last time. Long ago, when he had been left alone while the Dursleys went out to enjoy themselves, the hours of solitude had been a rare treat: Pausing only to sneak something tasty from the fridge, he had rushed upstairs to play on the television and flicked through the channels to his heart's content. Except for the fact that he was always at Mrs. Figg's house before he went to Hogwarts, there were often moments where he was too busy being angsty and depressed over Cedric, Sirius, or Voldemort to bother moving, and the Dursleys were always petrified that Harry would blow up the house so they likely never left him alone and if they did they locked him in his room like at the beginning of OotP, so there's really no point in time where that could have happened ever. It gave him an odd, empty feeling to remember those probably nonexistent times; it was like remembering a younger brother that he had lost. One he must have loathed because he had always compared his feelings for Privet Drive with how Sirius felt about Grimmauld Place and him backpedaling like this gets weirder and weirder the longer this section goes on.

"Don't you want to take a last look at the place?" he asked Hedwig, who was still sulking with her head under her wing. "We'll never be here again. Don't you want to remember all the good times? Of which there were, like, none? Seriously, why am I expositing so much of this trivial bullshit to you, this just seems so out of character in every way, other than me talking to you because there's no one else to talk to but boy did I pick a weird-arse topic to try out…I'm reminiscing about how happy the fucking _doormat_ makes me feel, what the fuck is wrong with me…"

* * *

How can Lupin be grayer and more lined when at most Harry only last saw him like two months ago…? Plus he's been steadily getting grayer since PoA, how does he not have only gray hair by now or at least have it described as more gray than brown or something?

* * *

"The Trace, the Trace!" said Moody impatiently. "The charm that detects magical activity around under-seventeens, the way the Ministry finds out about underage magic! If you, or anyone around you, casts a spell to get you out of here, Thicknesse is going to know about it, and so will the Death Eaters."

"Okay, questions, many of them," Harry interrupted. "One: Why was this never mentioned by name before if it's such common knowledge and we've had rampant cases of me doing underage magic before."

"'Cause retconning things is fun and easy," said Tonks swiftly.

"Okay, two: Is every witch or wizard in the country _born_ with this charm placed upon them or does each new parent have to present their child to the Ministry in order to have it cast, and how does that work with Muggle-born or Muggle-raised kids and how old do you have to be if that's how that works."

"Not a clue," said Bill.

"Maybe we're born with it," said Fred, shrugging.

"Maybe it's Maybelline," said George, also shrugging.

"You two go to hell. Third: If there's an actual charm that specifically detects magic as cast by an underage witch or wizard, why did Dumbledore say that if a lot of magic goes down in a house with more than one wizard in a highly magical community the underage magic that might be happening can be virtually undetectable, considering the Tonne-Tongue Toffees and the Canary Creams couldn't have been entirely made at Hogwarts and there were unexplained explosions coming from the twins' rooms all the time means that there should've been owls flocking to the Burrow from the Ministry on an hourly basis."

"Again with the retconning being fun and easy," Tonks repeated.

"This world's rules are stupid."

"And no one is going to argue against that," said Arthur cheerfully.

* * *

"So what are we going to do?"

"We're going to use the only means of transport left to us, the only ones the Trace can't detect, because we don't need to cast spells to use them: brooms, thestrals, and Hagrid's motorbike. We're not going to use entirely nonmagical means of transportation such as the London Underground or at least cars that Dung could've gotten for us under whichever mysterious circumstances he may have seen fit, though, that would just be intelligent."

"…This is the dumbest plan in the history of dumb plans."

"Hey whatever man, fuck you, I'm not perfect. No one's perfect in this world."

* * *

"Now, your mother's charm will only break under two conditions: When you come of age, or" — Mad-Eye gestured around the pristine kitchen — "you no longer call this place home."

"What if I never called it home to begin with?" asked Harry.

"Then the charm never worked and we're just running on blind faith."

"Excellent."

* * *

"If it has to come to force, then it will," growled Moody, his magical eye now quivering a little in its socket as he glared at Harry. "Everyone here's overage, Potter, and they're all prepared to take the risk. If they didn't, we wouldn't trust them to see the job through to the end, 'cause that's what being a member of the Order's all about."

"So why the bloody shit am I here," grumbled Mundungus. "You should be exceptionally paranoid that I won't follow through when I'm clearly the only one who doesn't want to be here."

"Because I like playing with the Idiot Ball," said Moody.

"Sure hope this doesn't backfire horribly!" said Tonks brightly.

* * *

"Bah," said Fleur, checking herself in the microwave door, "Bill, don't look at me — I'm 'ideous."

"Yeah well you're no prize when you're yourself either," Harry shot back at her. Lupin high-fived him.

* * *

"Harry, your eyesight really is awful," said Hermione, as she put on glasses.

"…Hence the glasses, you dumb fuck," muttered Harry. Ron snorted.

* * *

"We think the Death Eaters will expect you to be on a broom," said Moody, who seemed to guess how Harry was feeling. "Snape's had plenty of time to tell them everything about you he's never mentioned before, and of course he is the only one who would know about you being amazing on a broom, since there's no way Draco would've told Lucius, or any other child of a Death Eater tell their parents, as soon as you being Seeker was announced, and there's also no way Rita covered you going up against the Hungarian Horntail during the Tournament three years ago even though she covered everything else; no, Snape's really the only one who would ever have that information."

* * *

"Is this it? Is this Sirius's bike?"

"The very same," said Hagrid, beaming down at Harry.

"Was the sidecar his as well or is that one of yours and Mr. Weasley's additions?"

"Iunno."

"Awesome."

* * *

"What creature sat in the corner the first time that Harry Potter visited my office at Hogwarts?" said Lupin, giving Harry a small shake. "Answer me!"

"This question is useless, though, Snape stopped by to drop off your potion, remember?"

"BITCH ANSWER THE FUCKING QUESTION!"

"OKAY, OKAY, _GRINDYLOW! _PLEASE DON'T KILL ME!"

* * *

"I…" Harry tried to remember; the whole journey seemed like a blur of panic and confusion. "I saw Stan Shunpike…You know, the bloke who was the conductor on the Knight Bus? And I tried to Disarm him instead of — well, he doesn't know what he's doing, does he? He must be Imperiused!"

Lupin looked aghast.

"Harry, if he wasn't a Death Eater, why did they bother to break him out of prison during the latest probable breakout?"

"…Balls…" Harry muttered in embarrassment.

"Listen to me," said Lupin. "The time for Disarming is past. These people are trying to capture and kill you! At least Stun if you aren't prepared to kill!"

"I blew up the sidecar and one of them was thrown off from the force of the explosion, does that count?"

"Yes, but you still should've Stunned Stan."

"Hey, it's hard to attack the people you know and care about."

"Even people you only casually know and don't really care about at all?"

"It's tough!"

* * *

"Expelliarmus is a useful spell, Harry, but the Death Eaters seem to think it is your signature move, and I urge you not to let it become so!"

"Oh that's it, I'm gonna use it in the final battle _just to spite you."_

* * *

"I won't blast people out of my way just because they're there," said Harry. _"I'm not my father."_

Lupin punched him in the face.

* * *

Over Hermione's shoulder Harry saw Kingsley raise his wand and point it at Lupin's chest.

"The last words Albus Dumbledore spoke to the pair of us?"

"Harry is the best hope we have. Trust him," said Lupin calmly.

"Except when I use my own judgment when it comes to casting spells, apparently," Harry muttered.

"Quiet you."

"I thought Polyjuice didn't work on part-humans," said Hermione. "Does that mean werewolves _are_ fully human and all the bigots should take this scientific evidence and shut the hell up?"

"Probably," said Harry, "not that anyone'll ever listen to that unfortunately…Oi, Remus, not gonna ask Kingsley a follow-up?"

"Nah, it's fine."

"Okay…"

* * *

"How's George?" asked Lupin.

"What's wrong with him?" piped up Ron.

"We were just recounting the stories of our own journeys, Ron, do keep up."

* * *

"We saw it," said Bill; Fleur nodded, tear tracks glittering on her cheeks in the light from the kitchen window. "It happened just after we broke out of the circle: Mad-Eye and Dung were close by us, they were heading north too. Voldemort — he can fly — I wasn't entirely aware I said his name, that's kind of cool — went straight for them. Dung panicked, I heard him cry out, Mad-Eye tried to stop him, but he Disapparated. I really thought we could trust the shifty guy that's been super untrustworthy in the past."

* * *

Tonks was crying silently into a handkerchief. She had been close to Mad-Eye, Harry knew, his favorite and his protégée at the Ministry of Magic. How Harry knew this, he had no idea, but he did somehow.

* * *

"If Voldemort finds out I'm here—"

"But why should he?" asked Mrs. Weasley.

"There are a dozen places you might be now, Harry," said Mr. Weasley. "He's got no way of knowing which safe house you're in."

"Privet Drive, Grimmauld Place, here, Diagon Alley, Hogsmeade, and Hogwarts are the only magical places I'm familiar with, and I'm fairly sure that's common knowledge," said Harry shortly. "If there's another half-dozen places I'd be then I'm completely unaware of them. Plus, aside from Hogwarts, the only magical place I'm familiar with the most is here, so wouldn't this be the _most_ obvious place? And if not, wouldn't it be the most obvious place to target anyway considering _the family I love most in the world is all gathered here right now anyway since they live here and that would be the perfect way to goad me out into the open?!"_

"Oh please, there's no way Voldemort would ever be that intelligent," said Hermione.

"I can't believe he _wasn't _that intelligent," muttered Ron.

* * *

"Wait till it gets out yeh did it again, Harry," said Hagrid. "Escaped him, fought him off when he was right on top of yeh!"

"It wasn't me," said Harry flatly. "It was my wand. My wand acted of its own accord."

After a few moments, Hermione said gently, "But that's impossible, Harry—"

"Like the concept of Draco Malfoy being a Death Eater, you mean?" Harry spat at her. Hermione shut up at once and no one else argued with him.

* * *

When Harry had finished telling them what he had seen, Ron looked appalled, but Hermione downright terrified.

"But it was supposed to have stopped!"

"I know," said Harry, "Dumbledore told me that Voldemort was applying Occlumency against me, I have no idea why he's started up again."

"Probably because it's going to turn out to be the only way the plot moves forward in most cases," said Ron.

"No! We can't have plot advancement work like that!" cried Hermione. "Your scar — it wasn't supposed to do this anymore! You mustn't let that connection open up again — Dumbledore wanted you to close your mind!"

"This is true," said Harry. "A pity the guy who just cursed George's ear off was the guy teaching me and I never learned how to do it and Dumbledore never made sure I actually knew."

"Stop making excuses!"

"Whatever, fuck you, you stupid…shitface. Yeah, you told…Yeah, what. All right."

"Right."

"Yeah."

"Well said."

"Told _that_ shit."

* * *

"The Trace'll break on the thirty-first," said Harry. "That means I only need to stay here four days. Then I can—"

"Five," Ron corrected him firmly. "We've got to stay here for the wedding. They'll kill us if we miss it."

Harry understood "they" to mean Fleur and Mrs. Weasley.

"It's one extra day," said Ron, when Harry looked mutinous.

"Yeah, one extra day all of us could've spent getting ready to go underground or in hiding and preparing ourselves to try and survive all of this and get ready to fight and everything else that's associated with, y'know, _war."_

"Hey, we want one last calm before the storm, you were all for it at Dumbledore's funeral!"

"That was before Mad-Eye, Hedwig, and George's ear all died horribly in one night and before this place became a huge target as _the most likely place the Boy Who Lived would be hiding right now."_

"Oh would you quit overreacting."

"I'm gonna ruin your life. Get ready."

* * *

Mr. Weasley had explained that after the death of Dumbledore, their Secret-Keeper, which now has a hyphen in it apparently, each of the people to whom Dumbledore had confided Grimmauld Place's location had become a Secret-Keeper in turn.

"And as there are around twenty of us, that greatly dilutes the power of the Fidelius Charm. Twenty times as many opportunities for the Death Eaters to get the secret out of somebody. We can't expect it to hold much longer."

"But surely Snape will have told the Death Eaters the address by now?" asked Harry.

"Don't call me Shirley. And Mad-Eye set up a couple of curses that we know for a fact don't work against Snape in case he turns up there again. We hope they'll be strong enough both to keep him out, which they won't, and to bind his tongue if he tries to talk about the place, which I guess is likely, but we can't be sure, especially since magic is known to wear off after the death of the person who cast it unless they were, like, the founders of Hogwarts or something. It would have been insane to keep using the place as headquarters now that its protection has become so shaky."

"What about Kreacher, is he a Secret-Keeper too now? Does the charm extend to house-elves? Would he have been free to tell Bellatrix or Narcissa anything?"

"Don't you own him now, though? Can't you order him to not tell anyone?"

"I should probably get on that, but even if I did, he can disobey me whenever he wants as long as he punishes himself afterward, he's got no real reason to obey me."

"…Never go there again."

"Done and done."

* * *

"We must decide 'ow you will be disguised, 'Arry," said Fleur, once everyone had pudding. "For ze wedding," she added, when he looked confused. "Of course, none of our guests are Death Eaters even zough a couple might be since zees is ze era where we can't trust anyone, but we cannot guarantee zat zey will not let something slip after zey 'ave 'ad champagne."

"…How many people are coming to this wedding, exactly?" asked Harry in trepidation.

"Oh, a great many, of course!" said Fleur happily. "If we bunch togezer we will be easier to keel!"

"Great…"

* * *

"Let's see," said Hermione, slamming _Travels with Trolls_ onto the discard pile with a rather fierce look. "I've been packing for days, so we're ready to leave at a moment's notice, which for your information has included doing some very difficult magic, not to mention smuggling Mad-Eye's whole stock of Polyjuice Potion right under Ron's mum's nose. I haven't been getting any food, though, that's not at all crucial for maintaining our current existence or making us work better.

"I've also modified my parents' memories so that they're convinced they're really called Wendell and Monica Wilkins, and that their life's ambition is to move to Australia, which they have now done. That's to make it more difficult for Voldemort to track them down and interrogate them about me — or you, because unfortunately, I've told them quite a bit about you. And I desperately hope I explained the situation to them before modifying their memories, so even if they refused to allow their daughter to be in such a dangerous situation and insisted that I flee the country with them I could at least have the benefit of having a slightly less guilty conscience for doing what I did, taking comfort in the fact that they _wouldn't cooperate_ and that I had _no other choice_, instead of the film seeming to imply that I just used the power and privilege at my disposal to decide what was right for them without any of their input whatsoever.

"Assuming I survive our hunt for the Horcruzes, I'll find Mum and Dad and lift the enchantment, and hopefully I've altered the spell slightly so I'm the only one who can do so or something, otherwise the Death Eaters will be able to break it easily should they track my parents down. If I don't — well, I think I've cast a good enough charm to keep them safe and happy. Wendell and Monica Wilkins don't know that they've got a daughter, you see. Which is why I may or may not find them with a much younger sibling should my mother be old enough to still be able to have children or if they decided to adopt or something. This also assumes that they ever trust me again for messing with their minds like this after the curse is lifted, I can't really imagine anyone being thrilled about anything like this, should be enjoyable enough to handwave it in an interview as everything turning out fine and not to get into it at all."

Hermione's eyes were swimming with tears again. Ron got back off the bed, put his arm around her once more, and frowned at Harry as though reproaching him for lack of tact. Harry could not think of anything to say, not least because it was highly unusual for Ron to be teaching anyone else tact aside from all the times he had done so to Hermione over and over again whenever he told her to drop a sensitive subject in the past.

* * *

The hell would Hermione want to keep _Break with a Banshee_, was she that fond of Lockhart, she's got to know Ron would never stop taking the mickey out of her if she takes it…

* * *

Harry did not believe that Hermione really understood his desire to return to Godric's Hollow. His parents' graves were only part of the attraction: He had a strong, though inexplicable, feeling that the place held answers for him. Perhaps it was simply because it was there that he had survived Voldemort's Killing Curse; now that he was facing the challenge of repeating the feat, Harry was drawn to the place where it had happened, wanting to understand.

"Don't you think there's a possibility that Voldemort's keeping a watch on Godric's Hollow?" Hermione asked. "He might expect you to go back and visit your parents' graves once you're free to go wherever you like? I'm not entirely sure this should be a question?"

This had not occurred to Harry, but he easily came up with a counterargument.

"I survived Voldemort's Killing Curse there," he explained, "and since I might need to do that again soon, I feel like that place might have some answers as to precisely how I did it. And even if it doesn't we won't know until we've gone."

"Oh," said Hermione. "Well I'm all for you not dying so I am now down with this plan."

"Sweetness."

* * *

"Oh well, lucky we've got such a large supply of basilisk fangs, then," said Ron. "I was wondering what we were going to do with them."

"It does really only require a short trip down to the Chamber of Secrets to collect a handful, doesn't it," said Harry, his hope rekindling. "Really all we've got to do is ask one of the adults around here to talk to McGonagall and see about sneaking us in there somehow, or she could do it after I teach her Parseltonge for 'open' and hand it off to someone else who could then give it to us."

"…I actually forgot about the basilisk in the sewers beneath Hogwarts and was totally being sarcastic," said Ron sheepishly.

"Really? Huh, I didn't notice that for several rereads."

"Well you're dumb."

"Apparently."

* * *

If you poured phoenix tears on the remains of the diary, or any other Horcrux that was destroyed by the sword, would it repair itself, I wonder?

* * *

"I wonder how Dumbledore destroyed the ring?" said Harry. "Why didn't I ask him? Why didn't he _tell_ me, it's kind of fucking relevant!"

* * *

_A/N: And here's my foolproof idea on how to get Harry and the Dursleys out: Dung "procures" two cars, Arthur installs Invisibility Boosters, a combination of Dissilusionment and Silencing Charms plus Harry's Invisibility Cloak get the Dursleys, Hestia, Dedalus, Harry, and whoever's driving and protecting Harry into the cars, possibly Confuding Vernon if they have to, and then everyone fucks off and the Death Eaters are like "What even is."_

**_Review or everyone around you will be more concerned about throwing a party instead of preparing for the end when the inevitable zombie apocalypse happens._**


	2. Let's NOT Use The Really Useful Guy!

_A/N: Trigger warning for an Umbridge appearance in this chapter, guys, prepare yourselves. Also I had to cut a Frozen lyric for reasons so check out the other copy of the story on the other side of the internet for more information if you care._

**Disclaimer: **Dracarot and Dndchk helped once again, Rifftrax contributes some of the best crap in this, tumblr is again weird, and the Super Best Friends Zaibatsu, which makes Two Best Friends Play and all variations thereof, continue to be hilarious, at least to my dumb sense of humor. And _Airplane!_ is still one of the funniest movies ever made by anyone ever. Also I fucking love _Attack on Titan, _it's seriously one of the best anime I've seen in years. The tiniest of _Doctor Who_, _Monty Python and the Holy Grail, _and _Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows_ references were made as well.

* * *

"I must say it does complicate organizing a wedding, having all these security spells around the place," said Mrs. Weasley.

"I'm sorry," said Harry humbly.

"Oh, don't be silly, dear!" said Mrs. Weasley at once. "You-Know-Who wants all of us dead, not just you!"

"…Brilliant. That makes me feel loads better."

"Good, I'm glad that's settled!"

"…"

* * *

Once he had reached the seclusion of the freshly known lawn, Ron rounded on Harry.

"You ditched her. What are you doing now, messing her around?"

"_She_ kissed_ me,"_ Harry replied immediately.

"So you should've pushed her away!"

"…Didn't want to."

"Which is the problem right there."

"I know…"

* * *

"_To Miss Hermione Jane That Was Changed To Jean Because JKR Forgot When She Gave Umbridge The Same Middle Name And Who Wants That Granger, I leave my copy of _The Tales of Beedle the Bard, _in the hope that she will find it entertaining and instructive, but that she will ignore the advancement it presents to the plot even as the facts are staring at her right in the face, as per usual."_

* * *

HOW were flesh memories kept out of _Quidditch Through The Ages._

* * *

"'I open at the close…' What's that supposed to mean?" asked Harry.

Hermione shook her head, looking blank.

"Maybe the locket has to be opened from the hinges instead of at the clasp?" asked Ron. "Because that is _literally_ what iheart thought it meant and was shouting at the book for us to try it when she first read it."

"It's an idea, at least," said Hermione ponderously. "Let's not try it."

"Yeah, it won't work anyway," Harry agreed.

* * *

Why _didn't_ Dumbledore just give Harry the sword during one of their lessons, he had time!

* * *

Holding up the Deluminator in front of him, Ron clicked it. The solitary lamp they had lit went out at once.

"The thing is," whispered Hermione through the dark, "we could have achieved that with Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder."

There was a small _click_, and the ball of light from the lamp flew back to the ceiling and illuminated them all once more.

"Have any on hand, do you?" said Ron, a little defensively. "And this way we don't need to buy or import more, we always have this on hand, it's simple and easy."

"Okay, fair enough."

* * *

"Sorry about last night," Tonks added in a whisper as Harry led them up the aisle. "The Ministry's being very anti-werewolf at the moment and we thought our presence might not do you any favors."

"Had I known that, I would've insisted you two stay," said Harry, speaking more to Lupin than Tonks. "It would've been a nice way to further reinforce that I don't approve of Scrimgeour methods and, hell, I could've used that to outright accuse him of siding with Voldemort's way of thinking so he might've switched tactics merely to show us that he didn't or something."

"It wouldn't have amounted to anything and would only have served to get you in deeper trouble with the Minister," said Lupin, attempting to smile but failing miserably.

"And I'd've been okay with that," said Harry firmly. "We're fighting for all our rights to exist, aren't we?"

"Told you," said Tonks, grinning at her husband, who looked marginally more cheerful.

* * *

Everyone flipped their shit when Hermione wore pink instead of periwinkle blue, but not when she was wearing red instead of lilac? Y'all're fickle as hell…

* * *

"Ladies and gentlemen," said a slightly singsong voice, and with a slight shock, Harry saw the same small, tufty-haired wizard who had presided at Dumbledore's funeral, now standing in front of Bill and Fleur. "I'm here to start this idiotic wedding, you suicidal morons."

* * *

"…then I declare you bonded for life. I have no idea whether or not the Wizarding World even knows the concept of divorce which is kind of extremely worrying but there you go."

* * *

Okay seriously, how was Grindelwald never discussed in History of Magic and how come his sign isn't as widely known to wizards as the swastika, on which its symbolism is clearly based, is to Muggles.

* * *

"I had not realized I ever discussed my vand with my fans," said Krum.

"Be careful how you phrase that," Harry advised him. "Some people like to have fun with the fact that the word 'wand' can be a stand-in for 'penis.'"

"Huh. Thank you, I vill keep that in mind."

* * *

"Mr. Doge, I'm Harry Potter."

Doge gasped.

"Much boy. Very Arthur, so disguise…Such glad, many honor. Wow."

"…We're not doing this for the whole chapter, are we?" said Harry nervously.

"Oh Merlin no, it's just funny to slip in sometimes."

"If you say so…"

"I thought of writing to you," he whispered, "after Dumbledore…and then I didn't…"

"Spectacular."

* * *

Harry felt drained, empty. Never once, in six years, had Dumbledore told Harry that they had both lived and lost loved ones in Godric's Hollow. Why? Was it because he was usually too busy saving Harry's life, bailing him out of trouble with the Ministry, searching for Horcruxes, teaching him about Voldemort, and ensuring that Harry might survive that he never really saw an opportunity to broach any of these subjects? And why, _why_ was Harry taking Auntie Muriel's word for any of this and why was he buying into anything Rita Skeeter was suggesting when he knew first-hand how much crap she usually made up?!

* * *

"When did you do all this?" Harry asked as Ron began changing his clothes _in front of Hermione how does he not have all the embarrassment._

* * *

"I told you at the Burrow, I've had the essentials packed for days, you know, in case we needed to make a quick getaway, though again with the lack of food. I packed your rucksack this morning, Harry, after you changed, and put it in here…I just had a feeling…A feeling that we're in all-out wartime and with the amount of people coming to Bill and Fleur's wedding there's no way it would've been kept quiet and nearly all of them are publicly against pureblooded mania so they would all be targets and there's no way any of the Death Eaters would pass up a missed opportunity like that. Just a vague feeling."

* * *

The great blond Death Eater was hit in the face by a jet of red light: He slumped sideways, unconscious. His companion, unable to see who had cast the spell, fired another at Ron.

"Time out!" Ron yelled. "My hand's a ferret!"

* * *

"What are we going to do with them?" Ron whispered to Harry through the dark; then, even more quietly, "Kill them? They'd kill us. They had a good go just now."

"Ron, we're supposed to be the good guys!" Hermione whispered back, shuddering and taking a step backward. "We can't stoop to their level!"

"Yeah, but there's a nobility in stooping to their level," said Ron.

"Wha—No there isn't!"

Harry shook his head.

"We just need to wipe their memories," said Harry. "It's better like that, it'll throw them off the scent. If we killed them it'd be obvious we were here, as opposed to leaving them Stunned in a booth in a Muggle café with no memory of how they got there once they wake up. IT'S FUCKING FOOLPROOF!"

"Why did we put you in charge," muttered Ron. "Look, by killing them now we can _prevent_ them from killing other people later, you know they have it out for all of us!"

"Look, just because I blew a guy off his broom in self-defense doesn't mean I'm comfortable with the thought of killing someone in cold blood just yet."

"You're the boss," said Ron, sounding profoundly relieved despite the argument I just made him give. "But I've never done a Memory Charm."

"Nor have I," said Hermione, "despite what I said earlier about my parents."

"Maybe you altered them as opposed to erasing them?" suggested Harry.

"Maybe…And maybe I should do that to them to explain why they'll wake up alone in a Muggle café…"

"THERE'S NO TIME!"

"We're all super dead," muttered Ron.

* * *

Hermione turned to Harry.

"You — you don't think you've still got your Trace on you, do you, Harry?"

"He can't have," said Ron. "The Trace breaks at seventeen, that's Wizarding law which was never manipulated in any way when it comes to Harry, you can't put it on an adult."

"As far as you know," said Hermione. "What if the Death Eaters have found a way to put it on a seventeen-year-old?"

"But Harry hasn't been near a Death Eater in the last twenty-four hours. Who's supposed to have put a Trace back on him aside from Scrimgeour who, even though he's probably not a Death Eater himself, we know for a fact is absurdly interested in everything we're doing and who was just at the house last night?"

"Still wondering how we get the Trace on us when we're kids in the first place," muttered Harry.

* * *

"We need a safe place to hide," said Ron. "Give us time to think things through."

"Grimmauld Place," said Harry.

The other two gasped.

"Don't be silly, Harry, Snape can get in there!"

"Ron's dad said they've put up jinxes against him — and even if they haven't worked," he pressed on as Hermione began to argue, "so what? I swear, I'd like nothing better than to meet Snape!"

"But—"

"Hermione, what else is there? It's the best chance we've got, Snape's only one Death Eater. If I've still got the Trace on me, we'll have whole crowds of them on us wherever else we go."

"Like the crowd that might be waiting for us if Snape can get in and _bring other Death Eaters with him since he is also now a Secret-Keeper?"_ Hermione demanded.

"…Do you want to start camping now or later?"

"Later," said Ron immediately.

"Later," Hermione agreed reluctantly.

"That's what I thought."

* * *

"What did you see?" Ron asked, advancing on Harry. "Did you see him at my place?"

"No, I just felt anger — he's really angry—"

"But that could be at the Burrow," said Ron loudly. "What else? Didn't you see anything? Was he cursing someone?"

"No, I just felt anger — I couldn't tell—"

Harry felt badgered, confused, and Hermione did not help as she said in a frightened voice, "Your scar, again? But what's going on? I thought that connection had closed!"

"Why are you so surprised?" muttered Harry; his scar was still painful, which made it hard to concentrate. "It's already happened once this book."

"But you've got to close your mind!" said Hermione shrilly. "Harry, Dumbledore didn't want you to use that connection, he wanted you to shut it down, that's why you were supposed to use Occlumency! Otherwise Voldemort can plant false images in your mind, remember—"

"He can also sometimes see real images, which is how he saved my dad, _remember?"_ Ron interrupted in a harsh voice. "If he sees whether my family's alive or not, I'd like to know, thanks!"

"And again with _me never having learned Occlumency,"_ said Harry through gritted teeth, "and I _do_ remember about the false images. And thank you so much for bringing up such a painful memory. While you're at it, why not give me a paper cut and pour lemon juice on it!"

"I'm just trying to be helpful…" said Hermione.

"Yeah, well you're having the opposite effect."

* * *

…Sirius wouldn't have been at Grimmauld Place when Lily sent him that letter, why did Harry find it in the house now? And would Petunia really have sent Lily a vase, no matter how ugly? And frankly wouldn't Walburga have trashed Sirius's room entirely once Sirius left the place, that just seemed weird that she'd left it intact like that.

* * *

"Harry, do you really think you'll get the truth from a malicious old woman like Muriel, or from Rita Skeeter? How can you believe them? You knew Dumbledore!"

"Yeah, I knew he liked to keep things from me even when he said he'd tell me everything," Harry muttered.

"Oh stop your whining."

"Our best scientists tell me I can't do that."

* * *

Harry, meanwhile, had noticed another photograph; a Hogwarts Quidditch team was smiling and waving out of the frame. He moved closer and saw the snakes emblazoned on their chests: Slytherins. So things _had_ changed in the last twenty-ish years; Harry could never remember the Gryffindor lion ever described as being on the chest of _his_ Quidditch robes, as really the only thing the Houses had to differentiate themselves in _this_ day and age was merely the primary color of their house. Now if only they could change that pesky unwritten rule that let students get away with attempted murder…

* * *

"Kreacher saw him!" gasped the elf as tears poured over his snout and into his mouth full of graying teeth. "Kreacher saw him coming out of Kreacher's cupboard with his hands full of Kreacher's treasures. Kreacher told the sneak thief to stop, but Mundungus Fletcher laughed and r-ran…"

"…Dobby was able to knock Lucius Malfoy to the floor, and you couldn't stop a much weaker wizard like Mundungus?"

"Kreacher is old as shit."

"Ah, point made."

* * *

"I've said all along that wizards would pay for how they treat house-elves. Well, Voldemort did…and so did Sirius."

"I will punch you in the throat if you ever imply that Sirius deserved what he got again," said Harry murderously.

* * *

"Hold your fire, it's me, Remus!"

"Oh, thank goodness," said Hermione weakly, pointing her wand at Mrs. Black instead; with a bang, the curtains swished shut again and silence fell. Ron too lowered his wand, but Harry did not.

"Show yourself!" he called back.

Lupin moved forward into the lamplight, hands still held high in a gesture of surrender.

"I am Remus John Lupin, werewolf, sometimes known as Moony, one of the four creators of the Marauder's Map, married to Nymphadora, usually known as Tonks, and I taught you how to produce a Patronus, Harry, which takes the form of a stag."

"All of what you just said is common knowledge to basically everyone," said Harry, "except for your middle name which we didn't know and you could be making up right now just to fit the J. Try again."

"I'm here to deliver exposition that'll be mostly excluded from the film version?"

"Oh, all right," said Harry, lowering his wand, "but I had to check, didn't I?"

* * *

"I'd have been here three days ago but I needed to shake off the Death Eater tailing me," said Lupin. "So, you came straight here after the wedding?"

"No," said Harry, "only after we ran into a couple of Death Eaters in a café on Tottenham Court Road."

Lupin slopped most of his butterbeer down his front.

"_What?"_

They explained what had happened; when they had finished, Lupin looked aghast.

"But how did they find you so quickly? It's impossible to track anyone who Apparates, unless you grab hold of them as they disappear!"

"Then why couldn't you've just Disapparated to shake off the guy who was tailing you?" said Ron swiftly.

"They may or may not have grabbed hold of me as I disappeared."

"Ah, right then."

* * *

"But surely people realize what's going on?" said Hermione furiously.

"Don't call me Shirley," said Lupin.

* * *

"Why didn't Voldemort declare himself Minister of Magic?" asked Ron.

Lupin stared at him, then turned to Harry and Hermione.

"Since when has he been saying Voldemort's name when he's the one who kicked up the most fuss about it throughout the series?"

Harry and Hermione stared back at Lupin, before quickly whipping out their wands and pointing them in Ron's face.

"Who are you and what have you done with my best mate," said Harry coldly.

"Guys, it's me!" cried Ron, hands raised in surrender. "Everyone else was saying it, even Bill, and I just wanted to fit in with the rest of you, that's all!"

"…Okay, your story checks out," said Harry, lowering his wand.

"It really doesn't, though," said Hermione, keeping her wand raised.

"Oh it's fine."

* * *

"But how are they supposed to have 'stolen' magic?" said Ron. "It's mental, if you could steal magic there wouldn't be any Squibs, would there?"

"Squibs are supposed to be the victims of this theft," said Lupin.

"Then why are there far more Muggle-borns than there are Squibs?"

"I know, it's stupid."

* * *

"You don't understand," said Lupin at last.

"Explain, then," said Harry.

Lupin swallowed.

"I — I made a grave mistake in marrying Tonks. I did it against my better judgment and I have regretted it very much ever since."

"…Did she pressure you into it and you actually don't return her feelings at all? 'Cause that's still probably a very strong theory, especially for WolfStar fans…"

"No, I do love her, Pottermore confirmed it even, it's just…"

* * *

"Remus!" whispered Hermione, tears in her eyes. "Don't say that — how could any child be ashamed of you?"

"Oh, I don't know, Hermione," said Harry. "I'm pretty ashamed of him."

Harry did not know where his rage was coming from aside from it being a VERY LOGICAL REACTION TO THIS BULLSHIT, but it had propelled him to his feet too. Lupin looked as though Harry had slapped him.

"Let's go point by point," Harry said. "You say by marrying Tonks you've made her an outcast, as if being the half-blood daughter of a Muggle-born and niece to Bellatrix Fucking Lestrange as well as the Malfoys hasn't made her one to begin with. You seem to think that I, a Parselmouth, and Hermione, a Muggle-born, have no idea how prejudice in the Wizarding world works. I can't speak for Tonks's parents' views on the matter but Ted at least seemed nice when I met him, and frankly, considering how Andromeda had to go to great lengths to be with Ted in the first place they should be _encouraging_ this union, really. And if you want my opinion, any father who just abandons the mother of his child to attempt to figure out how to raise it on her own is _definitely _a person the child should be ashamed of. And finally, I outright _refuse_ to believe that the Wizarding world doesn't have some kind of birth control potion or spell; you should have _communicated with your fucking wife_ that you were scared to have children in case your lycanthropy was genetic if this was such a deep-seated fear you had!

"Also _WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU TRYING TO WALK OUT ON YOUR BABY MAMA. WHY ARE ALL MY MENTOR-FIGURES TURNING OUT TO BE SUCH HUGE ASSHOLES."_

"I really hate how I can't say this now missing sentence on this website, it really applies," Ron would've defended if he could've but he can't.

"He's still a huge asshole," said Harry defiantly.

"I'm not denying that, I'm just saying. Or would've..."

"I'm standing right here," muttered Lupin.

"You really shouldn't be," Harry shot back at him.

Lupin drew his wand so fast that Harry had barely reached for his own; there was a loud bang and he felt himself flying backward as if punched; as he slammed into the kitchen wall and slid to the floor, he grinned maniacally.

"It's because you know what I'm saying is right, isn't it! That's why the only answer you have for me is hexing me into a wall! AND THAT'S AS GOOD AS ADMITTING DEFEAT!" he shouted as he glimpsed the tail of Lupin's cloak disappearing around the door.

"…You know," said Hermione hesitantly after a moment, "not that I'm trying to defend Remus's actions or anything, far from it, but on the whole, at least from the part where he wanted to leave Tonks because he's made her an outcast, i.e. a target for Bellatrix and the like…especially the part where he said she and the child would be far better off without him…well, it sounds like he was trying to leave them for their own good, or so he feels. For their own protection, almost." She stared directly at Harry. "Just like you did with Ginny, really. So basically you were kind of a huge fucking hypocrite just now."

"But I didn't get Ginny pregnant," said Harry. "If I did, there's no way I would've left her, at least not like that; at most I'd stick her somewhere safe with the promise I'd come back if I survived, and that's only because I'm the bloody Chosen One, otherwise there's no way I'd leave her side."

"…I actually approve of everything you just said," said Ron wonderingly.

Side note: When the hell did they start calling him Remus and why isn't the narrative complying with Harry's choice to do so.

* * *

_Why is Harry taking Rita Skeeter's word for it._

* * *

There was the sound of pattering feet, a blaze of shining copper, an echoing clang, and a shriek of agony: Kreacher had taken a run at Mundungus and hit him over the head with a saucepan.

"Call 'im off, call 'im off, 'e should be locked up!" screamed Mundungus, cowering as Kreacher raised the heavy-bottomed pan again.

"Kreacher, no!" shouted Harry.

Kreacher's thin arms trembled with the weight of the pan, still held aloft.

"Perhaps just one more, Master Harry, for luck?"

Ron laughed.

"Ah, good," he said. "Balance out the rapidly mounting wizard death count with a healthy amount of slapstick."

* * *

…Where did Dung go after this chapter?

* * *

Does the UK not have laws against loitering, why does no one call the police about all these suspicious-looking dudes wearing heavy clothes in _summer_ hanging about this one particular area.

* * *

"Snape could send Phineas _NIGELLUS_ to look inside this house for him," Hermione explained to Ron as she resumed her seat. "But let him try it now, all Phineas _NIGELLUS_ will be able to see is the inside of my handbag with all of the dangerous books on the darkest of magics and all of our various supplies and eventually the sword of Godric Gryffindor and the Cup of Helga Hufflepuff."

"Good thinking!" said Ron, looking impressed, though that look faded quickly. "Why don't we just destroy the portrait, though, it's not as though we know he's needed for the plot or anything."

"I…don't know."

* * *

"Ron, it _all_ matters! If we're going to get into the Ministry and not give ourselves away when they're _bound_ to be on the lookout for intruders, every little detail matters! We've been over and over this, I mean, what's the point of all these reconnaissance trips if you aren't even bothering to tell us—"

"Blimey, Hermione, I forget one little thing—"

"You do realize, don't you, that there's probably no more dangerous place in the whole world for us to be right now than the Ministry of—"

"See, this is why I think we should've gone with my idea of having Kreacher tail Umbridge without her noticing like he did with Malfoy last year, wait till she's asleep, and take the locket then—"

"Please, Ron, that's just idiotic. I say we waste some of our precious Polyjuice Potion on an extremely convoluted plan for a break-in that'll be a sheer miracle if we make it out okay."

"Indeed, and I think we should do it tomorrow," said Harry.

"This is stupid," grumbled Ron, "and you're stupid for making me do it. And now _I'm_ stupid."

"Well you didn't really need help with that—"

"Oh that's just—"

* * *

"Harry, open up!"

He had shouted out, he knew it. He got up and unbolted the door; Hermione toppled inside at once, regained her balance, and looked around suspiciously. Ron was right behind her, looking unnerved as he pointed his wand into the corners of the chilly bathroom.

"What were you doing?" asked Hermione sternly.

"What d'you think I was doing?" asked Harry with feeble bravado.

"You were yelling your head off!" said Ron.

"Wow," said Harry sarcastically. "A seventeen-year-old bloke yelling his head off in a bathroom. Wonder what could've been transpiring."

Hermione turned very pink.

"So you were either wanking or constipated?" asked Ron for clarification. "Or you saw a huge bug and/or rodent or the toilet seat was just _really_ that cold?"

"Exactly, Ron, glad _someone _gets it."

* * *

"Harry, you aren't supposed to let this happen anymore!" Hermione cried, her voice echoing through the bathroom. "Dumbledore wanted you to use Occlumency! He thought the connection was dangerous — Voldemort can _use_ it, Harry! What good is it to watch him kill and torture, how can it help?"

"Because it means I know what he's doing," said Harry.

"So you're not even going to _try_ to shut him out?"

"Do you know how lucky I am to have dreams that are full of meaning and plot points?!"

* * *

Can those bathrooms be seen or accessed by Muggles? 'Cause what if a Muggle with a fetish tried to flush themselves down the toilet? What would happen to them? Hell, where does the shit and piss go? The fireplaces must smell _terrible…_

* * *

…Does the eye still work? If so, wouldn't it see through Invisibility Cloaks and such, wouldn't Harry be immediately found out? And how did Thicknesse or any of the pamphlet-makers not notice the gaping hole in the wall after Harry had taken it out?

* * *

Why aren't the dementors immediately sweeping down on Harry, four years ago that was kind of their whole deal.

* * *

"Next — Mary Cattermole," called Umbridge.

A small woman stood up; she was trembling from head to foot. Her dark hair was smoothed back into a bun and she wore long, plain robes. Her face was completely bloodless. As she passed the dementors, Harry heard her shudder.

So according to Lily in the Prince's Take, a girl who appeared to be in her year was named Mary McDonald, and she was Muggle-born. Unless she was more modern or whatever, which considering this is the backwards as hell wizarding world it seems highly unlikely despite McGonagall's example, she would've changed her name if she married. If she really is Lily's age, she's definitely old enough to have had a few kids by now if she so chose. Basically I've been operating under the assumption that Mary McDonald and Mary Cattermole are the same person.

* * *

Slowly and very carefully Harry edged his way along the platform behind Umbridge, Yaxley, and Hermione, taking a seat behind the latter. He was worried about making Hermione jump. He thought of casting the _Muffliato_ charm upon Umbridge and Yaxley, but even murmuring the word might cause Hermione alarm. Nonverbal magic was entirely out of the question, so he decided to be really creepy and terrify Hermione in the worst location to possibly get caught possible. OUR HERO, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN AND VARIATIONS THEREUPON.

* * *

"A wand was taken from you upon your arrival at the Ministry today, Mrs. Cattermole," Umbridge was saying. "Eight-and-three quarter inches, cherry, unicorn-hair core. Do you recognize that description?"

Mrs. Cattermole nodded, mopping her eyes on her sleeve.

"Could you please tell us from which witch or wizard did a mere Muggle like yourself somehow overpower and steal it from when you were a small child, turning you into a Mudblood, because that's totally how magic works and any Muggle can do it if they just steal a wand?"

"…How does that even _begin_ to make any kind of sense in your head."

* * *

"No," said Umbridge, "no, I don't think so, Mrs. Cattermole. Wands only choose witches or wizards. You are not a witch. Admittedly we have not yet tested you to see if you weigh the same as a duck, since if you did you would be made of wood, but I think we can guess."

* * *

_A/N: So Legend of Korra was amazing and everyone should watch it because of amazing reasons pertaining to various amazing states of amazingness. Yes._

_**Review or Kreacher'll beat you about the head with a saucepan.**_


	3. The Stripper Who Lived

_A/N: They put the seventh season of Doctor Who up on Netflix. I am now a weepy mess for reasons. TT_TT Cool John Crichton cameo, though. On the other hand, not really understanding why the fiftieth anniversary special or the latest Christmas episode wasn't included in this latest bundle. It's starting again August 23, if you wanna let us catch up LET US CATCH UP._

**Disclaimer:** Not only did Dracarot contribute a couple more ideas, but I am now quoting the father person on a thing, as well as our repeated _Airplane! _and_ 2001: A Space Odyssey_ references whenever scenes happen in the movie. Pretty sure this is the last of Rifftrax for a while unless they miraculously do the last movie before I post the rest of this, Kickassia's always a good sit, I will never not reference purpleeyeswtf's insane ramblings and I couldn't NOT do the _Pokémon _and _Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring _lines! Also Linkara and Matt, Pat, Woolie, and Liam are people on the interwebs, and J.K. Rowling is a person who is also sort of on the interwebs.

* * *

Hermione took a deep breath. She looked close to tears.

"Harry, I don't think we're going to be able to go back there."

"What d'you—?"

"As we Disapparated, Yaxley caught hold of me and I couldn't get rid of him, he was too strong, and he was still holding on when we arrived at Grimmauld Place, and then — well, I think he must have seen the door, and thought we were stopping there, so he slackened his grip and I managed to shake him off and I brought us here instead!"

"But then, where's he? Hang on…You don't mean he's at Grimmauld Place? He can't get in there?"

Her eyes sparkled with unshed tears as she nodded.

"Harry, I think he can. I — I forced him to let go with a Revulsion Jinx, but I'd already taken him inside the Fidelius Charm's protection. Since Dumbledore died, we're Secret-Keepers, so I've given him the secret, haven't I?"

There was no pretending; Harry was sure she was right. It was a serious blow. If Yaxley could now get inside the house, there was no way that they could return. Even now, he could be bringing other Death Eaters in there by Apparition…Except that wasn't how the Fidelius Charm worked.

"I'm going back," said Harry, standing up.

"What?!" cried Hermione, wiping her face. "But you can't, we were just over this, he knows where Grimmauld Place is now!"

"Yes," Harry agreed. "He does. And only him. We haven't told anyone else and we haven't led anyone else to the house, and he can't tell anyone else because he's not a Secret-Keeper. I'm going to Stun him, tie him up, whatever I have to do, then I'll come back here to keep an eye on Ron while you go and modify and/or erase his memory, which you're probably getting good at by now, and go drop him off somewhere. Then we can slowly make our way back depending on Ron's condition and continue doing what we were doing from a place with beds and food."

Hermione stared at him, then slowly nodded.

"It could work," she admitted.

"Right," said Harry, picking up the Invisibility Cloak. "See you in a few minutes then…I'll even bring Kreacher back with me, see if he can do anything more for Ron's arm, or at least follow us from time to time to restock our food supply, I don't even know where he's been getting our current supply but if he just keeps it up it would solve a lot of problems."

* * *

_Soooooo_ many jokes to be made about Hermione casting _"Erecto!"_ to pitch the tent…

* * *

…Seriously, Ron asking Harry and Hermione not to use Voldemort's name out of respect and Harry and Hermione actually going along with his desire out of some dumb need to humor the injured is the lamest lame that has ever lamed; why couldn't he have just overheard a couple of Ministry workers mention the Taboo while he was Cattermole, it worked in the film! I can't believe I just said that, but there it is! This shit's the _worst!_

* * *

"What are we going to do with it?" Hermione asked.

"Keep it safe till we work out how to destroy it," Harry replied.

"Lovely," said Hermione. "How about we put it in my bag, no one'll ever find it there." She giggled despite everything. "Neither will I, if it comes to that, since we can't Summon it. Or you could put it in that mokeskin pouch Hagrid gave you so that only you can access it and you'd have a layer of fur between you and it — why are you putting it on, that's just beyond stupid."

* * *

Harry thought of poor Kreacher, who had expected them home and had received Yaxley instead. Would the elf keep silent or would he tell the Death Eater everything he knew? Harry wanted to believe that Kreacher had changed toward him in the past month, that he would be loyal now, but who knew what would happen? What if the Death Eaters tortured the elf? Sick images swarmed into Harry's head and he tried to push these away too, for there was nothing he could do for Kreacher. He and Hermione had already decided against trying to summon him; what if someone from the Ministry came too? They could not count on elfish Apparition being free from the same flaw that had taken Yaxley to Grimmauld Place on the hem of Hermione's sleeve.

What they could count on, however, was an ambush. They could very well leave Ron at the campsite when he was feeling a bit better, Apparate elsewhere under the Invisibility Cloak, summon Kreacher, and if he happened to be attached to anyone swiftly take them out, thereby saving Kreacher and having him at their disposal once again. Unfortunately Hermione vetoed that on account of it being vaguely intelligent and Harry proceeded to strangle her with the locket chain.

* * *

Please shut up, Hermione, you're helping no one.

* * *

"Harry," Hermione said, crouching down in front of him and using the kind of voice he associated with visiting the very sick, "you don't think you've been possessed, do you?"

"What? No!" he said defensively. "If I had been, I'd be writhing in agony on the ground and Vol—"

"Ahem."

"Fine, _You-Know-Who _— Merlin, Ron, why am I humoring you — would be telling you two, through me, to kill me."

"Hmm…" said Hermione, looking down at the heavy locket. "Well, maybe we ought not to wear it. We can just keep it in the tent."

"We are not leaving that Horcrux lying around," Harry stated firmly. "If we lose it, if it gets stolen—"

"Again with both of our magical bags offering several kinds of protection."

"No, shut up, this is what we're doing."

* * *

"You told us that You-Know-Who asked Dumbledore to give him a job after he left," said Hermione.

"That's right," said Harry.

"And Dumbledore thought he only wanted to come back to try and find something, probably another founder's object, to make a Horcrux?"

"Yeah," said Harry.

"But he didn't get the job, did he?" said Hermione. "So he never got the change to find a founder's object there and hide it in the school!"

"True, but maybe he took the time to hide an artifact that he had _already_ found and made into a Horcrux on his way to or from Dumbledore's office. It's a big castle, after all, and Dumbledore was never _that_ omnipotent."

"I still think it unlikely."

"I get to watch you eat your words so many times this year, this is awesome…"

* * *

Dumbledore had shown Harry that Voldemort sought grandeur or mystique in his hiding places; this dismal gray corner of London was as far removed as you could imagine from Hogwarts or the Ministry or a building like Gringotts, the Wizarding bank, with its golden doors and marble floors. And yet despite having that thought he didn't make the connection until the evidence was spelled out for him by Bellatrix. Yaaaaaay.

* * *

"Your mother can't produce food out of thin air," said Hermione. "No one can. Food is the first of the five Principal Exceptions to Gamps Law of Elemental Transfigur—"

"Oh, speak English, can't you?" Ron said, prising a fish bone out from between his teeth. Ha, spellcheck wants me to change the s to a z, Scholastic forgot to Americanize something there.

"It's impossible to make good food out of nothing! You can Summon it if you know where it is, you can transform it, you can increase the quantity if you've already got some—"

"Then why didn't you increase the quantity of the eggs and bread we got that one time?"

"Because I like seeing you suffer."

"…Valid answer, I will accept this."

* * *

Phineas _**NIGELLUS**_ paused again in his struggles to free his eyes and sniggered.

"_Muggle-borns_,_"_ he said. "Goblin-made armor, and apparently weapons, do not require cleaning, simple girl. Goblins' silver repels mundane dirt, imbibing only that which strengthens it."

"So we should dip it in ranch dressing—look, I'm not following you," said Harry.

* * *

"Dumbledore trusted Snape," Harry reminded her.

"Not enough to tell him that he had swapped swords," said Hermione.

"Yeah, you're right!" said Harry, and he felt even more cheered at the thought that Dumbledore had had some reservations, however faint, about Snape's trustworthiness. "Why I could kiss you! In front of Ron, who is clearly being driven mad by Horcrux jealousy!"

* * *

"Take off the locket, Ron," Hermione said, her voice unusually high. "Please take it off. You wouldn't be talking like this if you hadn't been wearing it all day."

"Yeah, he would," said Harry. "Gah, the Ring is such a burden on Frodo!"

"…Um, Horcrux, Ron."

"Right, right, the Horcrux Ron is such a burden on Frodo!"

"…"

* * *

"So why are you still here?" Harry asked Ron.

"Search me," said Ron.

"Go home, then," said Harry.

"Yeah, maybe I will!" shouted Ron, and he took several steps toward Harry, who did not back away. "Didn't you hear what they said about my sister? But you don't give a rat's fart, do you, it's only the Forbidden Forest, Harry _I've-Faced-Worse_ Potter doesn't care about what happens to her in here — that should be a 'there' but whatever, I'm shouting — well, I do, all right, giant spiders and mental stuff—"

"I was only saying — I expected the Cruciatus Curse, all right, at least we know she can survive the Forest — and besides, she was with the others, they were with Hagrid—"

"…Well when you put it like that it does sound a lot tamer, I guess…Damn it, I'm trying to be hacked off with you here, stop making it difficult!"

"No!"

"Fuck you!"

"Fuck _you!"_

"_Fuck you!"_

"_FUCK YOU!"_

"WON'T SOMEBODY THINK OF THE CHILDREN!" screamed Hermione.

* * *

"Leave the Horcrux," Harry said.

Ron wrenched the chain from over his head and cast the locket into a nearby chair. He turned to Hermione.

"What are you doing?"

"What do you mean?"

"Are you staying, or what? And do you notice how I'm asking this without the locket on because I'm just that desperate to know?"

"I…" She looked anguished.

* * *

…Harry, you do realize how creepy you staring at Ginny's dot like that is, right? Did James have this same problem with Lily, is that partially the reason the damn thing was created? 'Cause that's…That's vaguely horrifying, that is…

* * *

However, Phineas _**Nigellus**_ did let drop certain snippets. Snape seemed to be facing a constant, low level of mutiny from a card core of students. Ginny had been banned from going to Hogsmeade. From this Harry deduced that Voldemort had allowed Hogsmeade visits to still be a thing for some reason.

* * *

Hermione looked from Harry to the weird symbol and back again. "I've never heard that Grindelwald had a mark. There's no mention of it in anything I've ever read about him. Somehow. I mean, even American schools are familiar with the histories and events of wars that happen outside their own country, at least if they were involved in the war themselves anyway, and as Dumbledore was the one who took Grindelwald down at long last I don't see why we wouldn't know about it if it was this big of a deal. That is _quite _a gap in the history books…that are written by the victors…of which Dumbledore was a victor…Okay I just figured everything out never mind."

* * *

Hermione fell back into the old armchair, frowning.

"That's very odd. If it's a symbol of Dark Magic, what's it doing in a book of children's stories? It's not as if _adults_ ever read children's stories or doodle/make notes in the margins if they're bored enough…"

* * *

"Harry, _what if Bathilda's got the sword?_ What if Dumbledore entrusted it to some random old woman he used to be neighbors with instead of storing it somewhere safe and remote and casting a crapton of protection spells on it?"

* * *

Harry could not help thinking that he and Dumbledore both had deep roots in this graveyard, and that Dumbledore ought to have told him so, yet he had never thought to share the connection. They could have visited the place together; for a moment Harry imagined coming here with Dumbledore, of what a bond that would have been, of how much it would have meant to him. But it seemed that to Dumbledore, the fact that their families lay side by side in the same graveyard had been an unimportant coincidence, irrelevant, perhaps, to the constant saving of Harry's life and/or education, the running of a school as well as the courts, all of his other obligations to the magical world, his constant searching for Voldemort's Horcruxes, his need to keep a professional distance from his students or at least seem to even if he did make exceptions now and again, and an entirely human desire to try to run away from an unwanted or depressing past.

* * *

And all around these neatly lettered words, scribbles had been added by other witches and wizards who had come to see the place where the Boy Who Lived had escaped. Some had merely signed their names in Everlasting Ink; others had carved their initials into the wood, still others had left messages. The most recent of these, shining brightly over sixteen years' worth of graffiti, all said similar things:

_Good luck, Harry, wherever you are._

**If you read this, Harry, we're all behind you!**

GARY WAS HERE! ASH IS A LOSER!

* * *

Then Bathilda closed her eyes and several things happened at once: Harry's scar prickled painfully; the Horcrux twitched so that the front of his sweater actually moved; the dark, fetid room dissolved momentarily. He felt a leap of joy and spoke in a high, cold voice: _Hold him!_

Harry swayed where he stood: The dark, foul-smelling room seemed to close around him again; he did not know what had just happened even though similar things had happened whenever he had a vision of Voldemort so why was he so confused now.

* * *

"Harry," Hermione whispered so quietly he could hardly hear her. "I'm so, so sorry. I think it was me. As we were leaving, you know the snake was coming for us, and so I cast a Blasting Curse, and it rebounded everywhere, and it must have — must have hit—"

"Tell me the truth," said Harry mechanically. "You sat on it and it broke."

"Damn it he knows!"

"Damn it I know!"

* * *

Dumbledore intended, next, to take a Grand Tour with Elphias "Very Dog, So Breath, Wow" Doge, the dim-witted but devoted sidekick he had picked up at school.

* * *

"Thanks for the tea. I'll finish the watch. You get back in the warm."

"…The warm?"

"The warm."

"…The warm."

"Yes, the warm."

"…You talk grammar goodly."

"Muchly I does."

"Oh dear."

* * *

"Where are we?" Harry asked, peering around at a fresh mass of trees as Hermione opened that bloody beaded bag of hers and began tugging out tent poles.

"The Forest of Dean," she said. "I came camping here once with my mum and dad." She looked up. "Oh look, there's my mum and dad, camping. Weird."

* * *

Harry moved an old cushion into the tent mouth and sat down, wearing all the sweaters he owned but even so, still shivery. The darkness deepened with the passing hours until it was virtually impenetrable. He was on the point of taking out the Marauder's Map, so as to stalk Ginny's dot for a while, before he remembered that it was the Christmas holidays and that she would be back at the Burrow, because obviously with the compulsory attendance everyone was forced to obey they would definitely let the children home to see their families whenever they wished instead of holding them all hostage so as to continue to strike fear and inspire compliance into the hearts and minds of the people like _smart_ villains would do.

* * *

The doe continued to step deliberately through the trees, and soon her brightness was striped by their thick black trunks. For one trembling second Harry hesitated. Caution murmured it could be a trick, a lure, a trap. But instinct, overwhelming instinct, told him that this was not Dark Magic. That and _the fact that it was quite obviously a Patronus_.

* * *

The imprint of the doe faded away with every blink of his eyes as Harry stood there, listening to the sounds of the forest, to distant crackles of twigs, soft swishes of snow. Was he about to be attacked? Had she enticed him into an ambush? Was he imagining that somebody stood beyond the reach of the wandlight, watching him?

Harry raised Hermione's wand and said, _"Homenum revelio!"_

Two giant orange arrows appeared, one to the right of the pool and pointing behind a tree, the other directly behind the pool.

"Hey, mate!" Ron waved, but Harry barely noticed when he saw who else was there.

"Uhhh…" said Snape awkwardly, but that was all he had time for before Harry ran at him and stabbed his eyes out with the borrowed wand as Ron cheered him on in the background. All was well.

* * *

Harry pointed his wand at the silvery shape and murmured, _"Accio Sword."_

It did not stir.

"Oh. Nothing. Okay, let me try this: _Give me the fucking sword!"_

* * *

It'd be _really_ awkward if Snape was still watching as Harry stripped down…I mean I know he probably wanted to make sure Harry actually got the sword, but still…Also Ron could've come and intervened at any time but instead he also chose to sit back and watch The Stripper Who Lived. Nice.

* * *

As far as Harry could judge, the pool was not deep, but to retrieve the sword he would have to submerge himself completely, even though as far as the fourth book was concerned he still couldn't swim unless he took time offpage to practice in the prefect's bathroom the previous year so let's assume that so he doesn't drown horribly. In order to avoid the trope as seen in all of the Muggle movies, Harry stepped back and made the hole in the ice far wider so he wouldn't have to look for that one miniscule hole when he knew he would want out of the water as quickly as possible and would be pressed for time, and also didn't want to drown just in case. Except he didn't do that because the trope still has to happen because everyone's super dumb.

* * *

Hey, wouldn't it be hilarious if Ron never showed up and Harry drowned?

* * *

"Why the _hell," _panted Ron, holding up the Horcrux, which swung backward and forward on its shortened chain in some parody of hypnosis, "didn't you take this thing off before you dived?"

Harry could not answer. The silver doe was nothing, nothing compared with Ron's reappearance; he could not believe it.

"…We n-need t-to either st-strip down comp-pletely and d-do j-jumping j-jacks, or we n-need t-to use m-magic to d-dry ours-selves off, _imm-mmediately,"_ he said at last, his teeth chattering, his voice weaker than usual due to his near-strangulation.

"Naaah," said Ron, somehow not stammering at all despite his far worse condition considering he was still fully dressed but drenched to the skin. "I say we both slowly succumb to hypothermia for the rest of the chapter."

"I am s-so glad you came b-back," said Harry reverently, tugging dry clothes over his frozen body and giving his naughty bits frostbite in the process.

* * *

"I'm going to open it," said Harry, "and you stab it. Straightaway, okay? Because whatever's in there will put up a fight. The bit of Riddle in the diary tried to kill me."

"Why does the locket have to actually be open for basilisk venom to be effective?" asked Ron. He looked puzzled. "The diary didn't have to be open, why can't I just smash it now, will the _deadly venom cured only by phoenix tears_ not work on it otherwise?"

"Not a clue, but let's just do the thing, m'kay? M'kay."

* * *

"Stab," said Harry, holding the locket steady on the rock.

Ron raised the sword in his shaking hands: The point dangled over the frantically swiveling eyes, and Harry gripped the locket tightly, bracing himself, already imagining blood pouring from the empty windows.

"I just want you tell you both, good luck. We're all counting on you," said Leslie Nielson, ducking back behind the trees. Harry and Ron stared in his general direction, then exchanged confused glances before getting back to the task at hand.

Then a voice hissed from out of the Horcrux.

"_Just what do you think you're doing, Dave?"_

"Don't listen to it!" Harry said harshly. "Stab it!"

* * *

"_Presumption!" _echoed the Riddle-Hermione, who was more beautiful and yet more terrible than the real Hermione: Treacherous as the sea, strung by the foundations of the earth, all shall love her and despair.

* * *

"One thing I would like to know, though," Hermione said, fixing her eyes on a spot a foot over Ron's head. "How exactly did you find us tonight? That's important. Once we know, we'll be able to make sure we're not visited by anyone else we don't want to see."

"Oh, I'm a Death Eater now," Ron replied easily.

"Yeah, that's great," said Harry, waving away Hermione's shocked look as something even more important just came to mind. "Didja bring any _food?"_

* * *

"You and Hermione have stopped saying You-Know-Who's name!"

"Oh, yeah. Well, it's just a bad habit we've slipped into," said Harry. "But I haven't got a problem calling him V—"

"No!" roared Ron, causing Harry to jump into the hedge and Hermione (nose buried in a book at the tent entrance) to scowl over at them. "Sorry," said Ron, wrenching Harry back out of the brambles, "but the name's been jinxed, Harry, that's how they track people! Using his name breaks protective enchantments, it causes some kind of magical disturbance — it's how they found us in Tottenham Court Road!"

"Because we used his _name?"_

"Exactly! You've got to give them credit, it makes sense. It was only people who were serious about standing up to him, like Dumbledore, who ever dared use it. Now they've put a Taboo on it, anyone who says it is trackable — quick-and-easy way to find Order members! And it's…kind of stupid, really, that he never wants anyone to use his name, the more I think about it," Ron went on. "This guy went to so much trouble to leave the name Tom Marvolo Riddle behind, even if it was just by making a fancy anagram of that name, you'd think he would want to be _known_ by this new name. His logic makes absolutely no sense when you really break it down, because if he manages to get rid of all of us, and he rules supreme over the United Kingdom and starts progressing to Ireland and the rest of Europe or whatever his eventual plans are, and if he wants to reign supreme for the rest of his immortal life or whatever…then how are the younger generations going to even know what the fuck his name is? Their parents won't be allowed to say it, their kids are just going to think his name actually _is_ He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, nicknamed You-Know-Who because it's shorter. The name he would prefer to be known by would just vanish forever, it'd be like his original name all over again! He's fucking _moronic_, this guy, I really don't know how we haven't already beaten him yet."

* * *

"Dumbledore knew what he was doing when he gave me the Deluminator, didn't he?"

"You're saying something Dumbledore did was intentional and without consequence?" cried Harry. "That's _crazy!"_

"Well, yeah. He — well," Ron's ears turned bright red and he became engrossed in a tuft of grass at his feet, which he prodded with his toe, "he must known I'd run out on you."

"I read somewhere the theory that he remembered the chess game, and how you were the first to sacrifice yourself," said Harry ponderously, "so he figured you'd be the first to jump into a fight while making us run and save ourselves, and you'd need the Deluminator to find us again when you eventually got away yourself."

"I like that theory better, let's roll with that," said Ron, sounding profoundly relieved. "But why program it to Hermione's voice? Why not yours, since he wanted us to protect _you _first and foremost?"

"Because he was shipping you two super-hard, since sometimes even he could be aware of the blindingly obvious?"

"Ah, okay then."

* * *

A large spider sat in the middle of a frosted web in the brambles. Harry took aim at it with the wand Ron had given him the previous night, which Hermione had since condescended to examine, because of course she would consider examining a new wand that Harry could potentially use as _she_ broke his old one and had to let him keep borrowing hers as _lowering herself_, and had decided was made of blackthorn. Somehow. Because all wizards know what kind of wood wands are made of. It's magic, you don't have to explain it. -_-

* * *

"You just need to practice," said Hermione, who had approached them noiselessly from behind and had stood watching anxiously as Harry tried to enlarge and reduce the spider. "It's all a matter of confidence, Harry."

"…I don't know if he told this same spiel to everyone, but when I got my wand Ollivander told me that the wand chooses the wizard and that no one will do quite as well with another person's wand, and that some are just more suited to the task than others. I could use yours because I guess it was closer to my own, and also maybe because you let me borrow it, but this one has fuck-all to do with me and feels intensely uncomfortable and uncooperative. This wand would never choose me, it just doesn't suit me."

"And I'm doing way better with my own wand than with Charlie's old one," Ron backed him up. "It's well-known that wizards are only suited to the wand that chooses them, surely you would've picked that up by now, I know you only ever had to use your own wand but still…"

"Oh that must've been just some line Ollivander feeds to people as an advertizing campaign," said Hermione indifferently.

"Uh-huh," said Harry, "tell me, did you end up buying the very first wand you tried, or did you have to go through a few before finally getting the one you currently own?"

"Hey, Harry. You know who sucks? You."

"…Well that was a fantastically framed battle of wits."

* * *

_**Review or you'll catch hypothermia and even though you have a quick-and-easy method of drying yourself so you don't die horribly you will never take advantage of it.**_


	4. I Made A Dick Joke, It's About Wood

_A/N: We lost Dave Legeno recently. I always thought he could've done so much more with Greyback if the films had bothered to actually utilize his character in any meaningful way instead of making him the Crabbe and Goyle to Scabior's Malfoy when it probably should've been the other way around at the very least. RIP, dude._

_Now to make everyone feel better with dumb lolz._

**Disclaimer:** Dracarot had ideas again, he's good with ideas. And…Wow, Harry Potter and the Half-Assed Parody unknowingly donated another line again! Which is actually the same line as I used last parody anyway and I'm just reusing it since it was relevant, so…Oh and I'm still pissed _Firefly _was cancelled. Yes, still. And Two Best Friends Play is still funneh to meh. And…Ha HA, it's been ages since I slipped a Starkid reference into one of these! Man, _Harry Potter's_ able to coincide with so many things, fanmade or otherwise! Too bad I don't own it though…

* * *

Hermione thrust _The Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore_ under Harry's unwilling eyes and he saw a photograph of the original letter that Dumbledore had written Grindelwald, with Dumbledore's familiar thin, slanting, piercing-blue-eyed handwriting. He hated seeing absolute proof that Dumbledore really had written those words, that they had not been Rita's invention, that there was no way a talented calligraphist could've gotten hold of something Dumbledore had written and had merely imitated his handwriting for the sake of a shocking story. Even though it wasn't, the possibility was still there and Harry should've thought about that instead of automatically taking every word he heard as gospel.

* * *

"All's fair in love and war," said Ron brightly, "and this is a bit of both. Cheer up, it's the Christmas holidays, Luna'll be home unless she decided to stay or was forced to stay at Hogwarts!"

* * *

"How d'you know it's an Erumpent horn?" asked Ron, edging away from the horn as fast as he could, given the extreme clutter of the room.

"There's a description in _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them!"_ cried Hermione.

"…Not really, it just says it has 'a large, sharp horn upon its nose' and that it 'can pierce everything from skin to metal, and contains a deadly fluid which will cause whatever is injected with it to explode.' It says nothing about it being a spiral shape or about the grooved markings around the base." Hermione stared at him, causing Ron to roll his eyes. "Yes, I've read a book, try not to faint."

* * *

"Where's Luna?" asked Hermione. "Let's see what she thinks."

Xenophilius gulped. He seemed to be steeling himself. Finally he said in a shaky voice difficult to hear over the noise of the printing press, "Every student at Hogwarts has been confined to the castle during the winter holidays. No one was allowed home."

Harry and Hermione looked to Ron.

"I don't remember hearing anything to the contrary," he admitted.

"So they're holding all of the children hostage, essentially," said Hermione in a soft voice. "That's…That's terrible."

"It's unfortunately really smart, as well," said Harry. "But I know Luna, I know she'll be able to tough it out, they all will, we know they're strong. And we know that Luna would want you to help us," he added to Xenophilius. "She's our friend, we would do anything to help her and she would do the same for us."

"Anything, you say," said Xenophilius quietly. Harry nodded, and didn't ask about the dusty bedroom because of course Luna had been away for months and therefore was instantly caught by the Death Eaters once they showed up. All was well.

* * *

"Well," said Harry, glancing at Hermione, who nodded encouragingly, "it's about that symbol you were wearing around your neck at Bill and Fleur's wedding, Mr. Lovegood. We wondered if the symbol symbolized anything."

Xenophilius raised his eyebrows.

"You were at the wedding?"

"Yes, I was disguised as one of the random Weasley cousins."

"Ah, I see, I do believe Luna may have mentioned…But are you referring to the sign of the Title of the Book?"

* * *

"The Deathly Hallows?"

"That's right," said Xenophilius. "You haven't heard of them? I'm not surprised. Very, very few wizards believe. Witness that knuckle-headed young man at your brother's wedding," he nodded at Ron, "who attacked me for sporting the symbol of a well-known Dark wizard! Such ignorance. There is nothing Dark about the Hallows — at least, not in that crude sense. One simply uses the symbol to reveal oneself to other believers, in the hope that they might help one with the Quest."

He stirred several lumps of sugar into his Gurdyroot infusion and drank some.

"I'm sorry," said Harry, "but if it's now considered a symbol of a well-known Dark wizard, it might be a good idea to treat it as such. It's like how the swastika was an Eastern symbol of life, the sun, prosperity, good luck, and other similar things for over three thousand years, but Hitler tilted it slightly and now all it symbolizes to nearly everyone is hatred and death. If someone of Jewish descent whose relative died in the Holocaust accused you of being a Nazi or supporting the Nazi party, it would be quite rude and insensitive to merely brush him aside and tell him that it means something totally different and he's just an uneducated moron."

"But it _does_ mean something totally different to me and Krum _is_ an uneducated moron."

"Who was offended by something that you were doing. If someone's offended, decent human behavior, i.e. not being a huge bag of shit, dictates that you immediately apologize and stop what you're doing, maybe with an explanation, _worded politely,_ to pacify the person even as they never associate with you again, at the very least until they and other like-minded people are no longer in your company; it's perfectly acceptable to be a complete douchenozzle in the privacy of your own home."

"It's _fine."_

"Man, fuck you and your shirt, that you're wearing."

* * *

"_In time, the brothers reached a river too deep to wade through and too dangerous to swim across."_

"So they went home and got hammered. The end."

"Getting real tired of your shit, Ron."

"Sorry, that was Fred's version whenever Mum was too busy with Ginny. He wasn't too fond of dragging the thing out, but personally I don't think he could remember the whole tale."

"Hey, hey, hey," said Hermione. "Shut the fuck up."

"Sorry again, please continue."

"Actually, don't," said Harry. "If they were travelling along a lonely, winding road, how come the road just abruptly stopped at the river? I can understand if a previous bridge had been washed away or something, but the tale makes no mention of there being any remains left."

"Because shut up. Ahem. _However, these brothers were learned in the magical arts, and so they simply waved their wands and made a bridge appear across the treacherous water."_

"What, they couldn't Apparate?"

"Harry, I swear I will punch you in the goddamn throat."

"Sorry, sorry…"

_"They were halfway across it when they found their path blocked by a hooded figure._

"_And Death spoke to them—"_

"Sorry," interjected Harry, "but _Death_ spoke to them?"

"It's a fairy tale, Harry!"

"Right, sorry. Go on."

"_And Death spoke to them. He was angry that he had been cheated out of three new victims, for travelers usually drowned in the river. But Death was cunning. He pretended to congratulate the three brothers upon their magic, and said that each had earned a prize for having been clever enough to evade him."_

"Why?" Harry cut in again. "People cheat death all the time, either by taking medicine so they don't succumb to some illness or other, by taking less dangerous routes or flat-out opting out of something on account of it being exceptionally perilous, or by just getting out of the way at the proper moment. What makes these three dudes such unique and special snowflakes?"

"It's not a hundred percent clear," said Hermione.

* * *

"But the…do you mean…" said Hermione slowly, and Harry could tell that she was trying to keep any trace of skepticism out of her voice, "that you believe these objects — these Hallows — actually exist?"

Xenophilius raised his eyebrows again.

"Well, of course."

"But," said Hermione, and Harry could hear her restraint starting to crack, "Mr. Lovegood, how can you _possibly_ believe—?"

"Luna has told me all about you, young lady," said Xenophilius. "You are, I gather, not unintelligent, but painfully limited. Narrow. Close-minded. Completely unwilling to accept that YOU LIVE IN A WORLD OF MAGICAL MAGIC WHERE NEARLY EVERYTHING IS POSSIBLE, and also never willing to accept that impossible things might actually be possible _**DESPITE THE MULTIPLE TIMES JUST IN THE PAST TWO YEARS ALONE THAT YOU'VE BEEN PROVEN WRONG ABOUT ALL OF THE THINGS."**_

"_Thank you,"_ said Harry fervently as Hermione shot him a look of betrayal.

* * *

"Wands are only as powerful as the wizards who use them," said Hermione. "Some wizards just like to boast that theirs are bigger and better than other people's."

Harry and Ron stared at her.

"Oh I get it," said Ron at length.

"I don't get it," Harry admitted.

"It's like sex."

"Oh. Oh! It's a penis joke! I get it! I understood that joke!"

"Yeah, it's about wood."

"Why would you even…fuck it," said Hermine wearily.

"I would _not_ even fuck it!" cried Ron.

"Wait, what's this 'it' that we're even fucking?" asked Harry.

Hermione sighed wearily.

"Okay, we need to get away from all these dick jokes," said Harry. "You know how Ollivander liked to attach adjectives to his wands, like how mine was nice and supple and Hagrid's was bendy and Draco's is pliant and Bellatrix's is unyielding and Pettigrew's new one is brittle?"

"Yeah?" said Hermione.

"He described You-Know-Who's as _very powerful_. It's yew, not elder, but still."

"Shut your butt."

"Well, time to stab you, then."

* * *

"Okay then," Hermione whispered, "give me the Invisibility Cloak."

"Get it yourself," said Harry, "you put it in your bag before we got here."

"Oh yeah…"

* * *

"Well, I don't suppose it matters," sighed Hermione. "Even if he was being honest, I never heard such a lot of nonsense in all my life."

"Hang on, though," said Ron. "The Chamber of Secrets was supposed to me a myth, wasn't it?"

"But the Deathly Hallows _can't_ exist, Ron!"

"And Snape was supposed to be trustworthy because Dumbledore said so, right?"

"But the Deathly Hallows _can't_ exist, Ron!"

"And it turned out that Malfoy _was_ working for You-Know-Who all last year, wasn't he?"

"But the Deathly Hallows _can't_ exist, Ron!"

"And he was responsible for Katie's attack, wasn't he?"

"But the Deathly Hallows _can't_ exist, Ron!"

"And Harry looking into You-Know-Who's mind is the only way we'll ever be able to figure out what to do next, isn't it?"

"But the Deathly Hallows _can't_ exist, Ron!"

"And there is totally a Horcrux hidden at Hogwarts, isn't there?"

"But the Deathly Hallows _can't_ exist, Ron!"

"And the Deathly Hallows is actually the title of the book so therefore they're probably super relevant, right?"

"But the Deathly Hallows _can't_ exist, Ron!"

"And H.E.R.P.E.S. is actually a really poorly-thought-out program that benefits no one the way it is now, isn't it?"

Hermione shoved Gryffindor's sword up Ron's ass.

"Hermione," said Harry, stepping over the pool of blood slowly spilling out over the floor of the tent, "if Dumbledore didn't want us to find out about the Hallows, if he really thought it was just as big a waste of time as you do, then why did he give you that book and why were he and Grindelwald so obsessed with the sign themselves?"

"…Oh fuck you, you're probably totally right."

"You know it. Now to work on the huge puzzle of what the fuck now…"

* * *

"I don't know. We could do with an unbeatable wand," said Harry, turning the blackthorn wand he so disliked over in his fingers.

"Even if we did, You-Know-Who could still beat you, since Dumbledore still beat Grindelwald despite Grindelwald being in possession of it," said Hermione psychically.

"Oh. Yeah. Huh."

* * *

I can't believe I'm saying this, but I'm almost _glad_ the books are over; Harry being absolutely right about something and not even Ron and Hermione believing him got old before HBP was even halfway done, this is just getting stupid, could you imagine more of this in subsequent books? Because we _know_ Hermione would continue to not believe anything…

* * *

"Dumbledore usually let me find out stuff for myself. He let me try my strength, take risks. This feels like the kind of thing he'd do."

"Harry, this isn't a game, this isn't practice!" cried Hermione in exasperation.

"Oh, and going up against a basilisk was a game? Breaking the laws of time and space was _practice?_ Going through the Tournament — okay, that was actually a game by definition, but I still wasn't supposed to be in it so I'm counting it. And I guess getting that final memory from Slughorn was also not important or Dumbledore would've done it himself or told me precisely how to do it, eh?"

"This is the real thing," Hermione continued determinedly, "and Dumbledore left you very clear instructions—"

"No, he really didn't," said Harry and Ron in unison.

"Oh fuck both of you."

* * *

Was Penelope Clearwater actually a half-blood and the basilisk just happened to get her because she was next to Hermione, its intended target? Because people would probably have been freaking out at the fact that a non-Muggle-born had been attacked. So basically the person called Penelope Clearwater's totally gonna get outed as a Muggle-born and Hermione did not save herself at all. :(

* * *

"Well, Draco?" said Lucius Malfoy. He sounded avid. "Is it? Is it Harry Potter? Remember, we can only take your word for it as there's no way we would be able to torture him or his travelling companions and force them to reveal his identity."

* * *

"What did you do to him?" Lucius asked Greyback. "How did he get into this state?"

"That wasn't us."

"Looks more like a Stinging Jinx to me," said Lucius.

"Then why ask if you don't want to be told," grumbled Greyback, but Lucius ignored him and glanced meaningfully behind him at his wife. Narcissa nodded and drew her wand from her robes.

"_Finite incantatem!"_ she said, pointing her wand at Harry's face.

"Well balls," said Harry as his face returned to normal.

"_We got Potter!"_ cheered the Snatchers. _"We got Potter! We got Potter!"_

* * *

…So they emptied Harry's pockets but not Ron's, and they didn't think to look anywhere else and only took the wands in any case? That's…That's just the pinnacle of intelligence, that is, no wonder these guys lost…

* * *

"Right. Dobby, I want you to grab Luna, Dean, and Mr. Ollivander, and take them — take them to—"

"Bill and Fleur's," said Ron. "Shell Cottage on the outskirts of Tinworth!"

"Thought Bill was Secret-Keeper," said Harry.

"Oh you know as well as I do that the Fidelius Charm's fucking busted."

"Ah, 's true."

* * *

Okay, Wormtail or Pettigrew, pick one, narrative.

* * *

"I've been getting them all out of the Burrow," Bill explained. "Moved them to Muriel's. The Death Eaters know Ron's with you now, they're bound to target the family — don't apologize," he added at the sight of Harry's expression. "It was always a matter of time, Dad's been saying so for months. We're the closest family to you in the entire Wizarding world and it's a sheer miracle that none of us were grabbed and held as bait to draw you out. We've been incredibly fortunate so far this war."

"How are they protected?" asked Harry.

"Fidelius Charm. Dad's Secret-Keeper. And we've done it on this cottage too; I'm Secret-Keeper here. Must've just done it, too, or else Ron would _not_ have been able to lead you here, though I'm not entirely sure how I sent word to Remus without that being intercepted…Let's hope he and Tonks're under that sort of protection as well, everyone else seems to be doing it. Surprised there was apparently just that one instance last war."

"…Speaking of," said Harry, "you can be Secret-Keeper for your own location?"

"Evidently I've just provided indications that suggest so, why?"

"…_Why weren't my parents their own Secret-Keepers."_

"I…Sirius _did_ say your father was a bit of an idiot, but on the other hand he and your mother were also supposed to be really intelligent. I have no idea why not."

"Didn't Remus say your father would've thought it was the height of dishonor to mistrust his friends?" whispered Hermione. "Maybe they just trusted Sirius that much and didn't even think of that."

"Maybe you couldn't do that before but after what happened with your parents the spell's evolved and been modified in the last sixteen years so we now have that option?" suggested Ron.

"Maybe…" Harry mused.

* * *

"But I thought we were looking for places You-Know-Who's been, places he's done something important?" said Ron, looking baffled. "Was he ever inside the Lestrange's vault?"

"I don't know whether he was ever inside Gringotts," said Harry. "He never had any gold there when he was younger, because nobody left him anything. He would have seen the bank from the outside, though, the first time he ever went to Diagon Alley."

Harry's scar throbbed, but he ignored it; he wanted Ron and Hermione to understand about Gringotts before they spoke to Ollivander.

"I think he would have envied anyone who had a key to a Gringotts vault. I think he'd have seen it as a real symbol of belonging to the Wizarding world."

"So why didn't he set up his own account?" asked Ron. "You can do that in banks, you know, that's kind of the point of banks, they're places for people to store money."

"Because then he'd have to ask a goblin to set up an account," said Harry. "You heard Griphook in there, goblins are considered as worthless as Muggle-borns in this whole regime."

"That's a stupid reason," said Ron, "even the most uppity of bigots have to deal with goblins anyway when they actually make withdrawals and deposits; if he really wanted to be a part of the Wizarding world he should've sucked it up like everyone else."

"But he thinks he's above even his servants anyway," said Harry. "He thinks he's above everyone."

"…So basically he's just stupid?"

"YYYYYYYEP!"

"Okay then."

* * *

"This was the wand of Draco Malfoy," said Ollivander.

"Was?" repeated Harry. "Isn't it still his?"

"Perhaps not. If you took it—"

"—I did—"

"—then it may be yours. Of course, the manner of taking matters. Much also depends upon the wand itself. In general, however, where a wand has been won, its allegiance will change. Because theft has sick-arse rewards like that."

* * *

"We were talking about the other wand, the wand that changes hands by murder. When You-Know-Who realized my wand had done something strange, he came back and asked about that other wand, didn't he?"

"How do you know this?"

Harry did not answer.

"Yes, he asked," whispered Ollivander. "He wanted to know everything I could tell him about the wand variously known as the Deathstick, the Wand of Destiny, or the Elder Wand."

Harry glanced sideways at Hermione. She looked flabbergasted.

"I fucking told you so," he told her matter-of-factly. She turned pink, glaring at Ron as he sniggered.

"The Dark Lord," said Ollivander in hushed and frightened tones, "had always been happy with the wand I made him — yew and phoenix feather, thirteen-and-a-half inches — until he discovered the connection of the twin cores. Which is why he waited nearly three years before trying to get a new one."

* * *

"Harry!" Ron said furiously. "How long have you known this — why have we been wasting time? Why did you talk to Griphook first? We could have gone — we can still go—"

"Because neither of you believed me before so why should I assume you would now," said Harry shortly.

"I semi-believed you, at least about the wand and the cloak!" Ron insisted.

"But Hermione didn't and you _know_ she would've dug her heels in."

"That's not — okay, yes it is," Hermione quelled under Ron's fierce look.

* * *

"I want the sword. The sword of Godric Gryffindor."

Harry's spirits plummeted.

"You can't have that," he said. "I'm sorry."

"Then," said the goblin softly, "we have a problem."

"You can have it after we use it to destroy the thing we're trying to steal, how 'bout that," said Ron. "We'll even let you do it as a show of good faith, then you can take the sword after we're done."

"…That was clever, Ron," said Hermione softly, gazing at him.

"Always the tone of surprise," said Ron, grinning and nudging her shoulder with his.

"Just fuck already," said Harry tiredly. "Also we still need it for the other things we have to destroy. How about we let you hang with us and keep hold of it for us, since you treat it with even more reverence than we do and that's saying something, and after we're finally done you can take it then."

"I most likely would have agreed to any of these terms if you idiotic humans had bothered to suggest them in the first place," muttered Griphook.

"Yeah, well, what d'you expect from humans," said Harry self-deprecatingly.

"Less than what you three have shown me, so that's something…"

* * *

"I'm sorry," Harry told Fleur, one blustery April evening as he helped her prepare dinner. "I never meant you to have to deal with all of this."

She had just set some knives to work, chopping up steaks for Griphook and Bill, who had preferred his meat bloody ever since he had been attacked by Greyback. While the knives sliced away behind her, her somewhat irritable expression softened.

"'Arry, you saved my sister's life, I do not forget. And before you claim zat she was not een danger, 'ow many ways could zat task 'ave gone wrong? You were never supposed to be in ze tournament to begin with, for instance. And Gabrielle could not swim so well at ze time, she needed your 'elp and Ron's."

"Fair point, I'll shut up."

* * *

"I know goblins," said Bill. "I've worked for Gringotts ever since I left Hogwarts. Therefore I'm obviously privileged enough to give a detailed analysis of their culture as if I were one of them."

* * *

Mr. Ollivander had sent Luna a new wand that morning. She was out on the back lawn at that moment, testing its capabilities in the late afternoon sun. Presumably she had come of age sometime during the year so that the Trace had no effect on her.

* * *

"This is Dragomir Despard," said Hermione; they had decided that a fictional foreigner was the safest cover for Ron to assume. "He speaks very little English, but he is in sympathy with the Dark Lord's aims. He has traveled here from Transylvania to see our new regime."

"Indeed?" said Travers.

"What kind of support _is_ Voldemort getting from abroad, and aren't foreign governments at least preventing him from getting reinforcements if they're not providing their own wizards to help fight against him?" asked Dracarot.

* * *

Pretty sure Harry just technically killed Travers by Imperiusing him to hide in a crack of the tunnels and never ever giving him further instructions ever…

* * *

"They have added Gemino and Flangrante Curses!" said Griphook. "Everything you touch will burn and multiply, but the copies are worthless—and if you continue to handle the treasure, you will eventually be crushed to death by the weight of expanding gold!"

"Okay, this, the dragon, the Thief's Downfall — why didn't you tell us any of this when we were planning this for _weeks?"_ yelled Ron.

"Because I don't like you much."

"…Ah, fair enough."

* * *

"NOW!"

Harry slithered over the side of the dragon and plummeted feetfirst toward the surface of the lake; the drop was greater than he had estimated and he hit the water hard, plunging like a stone into a freezing, green, reed-filled world. And then Ron had to drag him to shore and Hermione had to help him perform CPR because I'm still fairly certain Harry can't swim.

* * *

As for the school: He alone knew where in Hogwarts he had stowed the Horcrux, because he alone had plumbed the deepest secrets of that place…A pity and an oddity that his thoughts did not stray to the precise location as they had with the others, but that would only be too easy and we can't have that…Also Pottermore dictates that the Marauders unearthed more secrets about Hogwarts than he did, so…Nyah.

* * *

"He knows." Harry's own voice sounded strange and low after Voldemort's high screams. "He knows, and he's going to check where the others are, and the last one," he was already on his feet, "is at one convenient place. Get this: Hogwarts."

"Oh that's awesome, I love Hogwarts," said Ron.

"I knew it. I _knew_ it," Harry continued. "I _fucking_ told you so! _Again!"_ he yelled, rounding on Hermione.

"Fine, fine, I get it," said Hermione, rolling her eyes.

* * *

_A/N: And on a MUCH lighter note, Pottermore gave us a LOT of really good information recently, thanks Rita for providing quite a bit of insight to how our old friends are REALLY doing between the lines of your dumb bullshit. And for those of you who haven't read it yet, minor spoiler that'll be impossible for you to miss since I'm capitalizing it in my excitement: NEVILLE IS ALBUS'S GODFATHER OMG I'M STILL FREAKING OUT._

_**Review or Hermione'll shove Gryffindor's sword up your ass for proving her wrong. AGAIN.**_


	5. Seriously, Where In The Forest?

_A/N: Had to delete another line from _Frozen_ again, WHY are song lyrics so taboo on this site where everyone gives credit to everything else they've been working with and there are literally THOUSANDS of websites where lyrics are just posted for no reason..._

**Disclaimer:** The Best Friends Zaibatsu continues to be hilarious to me, James Bond is a movie series of which I've only seen _Skyfall_ but that was good, _Airplane! 2_ will never not be funny and nor will A Very Potter Musical, _The Big Lebowski's_ fuggin' weird, Code MENT is still on YouTube and is also still funny, and _Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows_ is pretty okay. I own none of these things but you should check out whatever I've mentioned that you haven't checked out yet.

* * *

The few Ravenclaws who had remained behind sprinted for the stairs as Amycus burst over the threshold, brandishing his wand. Hunched like his sister, he had a pallid, doughy face and tiny eyes, which fell at once on Alecto, sprawled motionless on the floor. He let out a yell of fury and fear.

"I am showing concern for my sister's well-being, outrage at the people who attacked her, and fear that a sibling has been killed!" he screamed. **_"THAT MUST MEAN WE'VE BEEN FUCKING EACH OTHER!"_**

* * *

"I see what Bellatrix meant," said Harry, the blood thundering through his brain, "you really have to mean it."

"Potter!" whispered Professor McGonagall, clutching her heart. "Potter — you're here! What—? How—?" She struggled to pull herself together. "Potter, that was very foolish!"

"He spat at you," said Harry.

"Potter, I — you knew of Bellatrix's worst crimes for over a year before you met her, and then she murdered the closest and most official thing you've ever had to a parent — this guy was merely _present_ at Dumbledore's murder and you only barely have a sense of what he's done, and I am not by any means your favorite teacher — how the hell did you make it work on him and not Bellatrix?"

"…I should be making a musical reference here but I'm not allowed?" Harry offered weakly.

"Isn't that the second time we've deleted that line this parody?" asked Luna.

"It's a good line, Disney did good."

* * *

"Mum's right, Ginny," said Bill gently. "You can't do this. Everyone underage will have to leave, it's only right."

"Like it was only _right_ that I've fought against Death Eaters the past two years and no one stopped me then?!" Ginny shouted, angry tears sparkling in her eyes. "Like it was only _right_ for Harry over there to fight against You-Know-Who when he was fifteen and fourteen and twelve and eleven and _ONE__?!"_

* * *

"Where's Ron?" asked Harry. "Where's Hermione?"

"They must have gone up to the Great Hall already," Mr. Weasley cried over his shoulder.

"I didn't see them pass me," said Harry.

"They said something about a bathroom," said Ginny, "not long after you left."

"Why bother using a bathroom, I stopped caring about shitting my pants hours ago."

"You too, huh?"

* * *

"Give me Harry Potter," said Voldemort's voice, "and none shall be harmed. Give me Harry Potter, and I shall leave the school untouched. Give me Harry Potter, and you will be rewarded.

"You have until midnight. And then I will give you another hour. I'm a nice guy like that."

* * *

"I know what the diadem looks like, and I know where it is," said Harry, talking fast. "He hid it exactly where I hid my old Potions book, where everyone's been hiding stuff for centuries. He thought he was the only one to find it despite the mountains of evidence suggesting that students have been hiding stuff for centuries. Come on."

"You know, I've been thinking," said Hermione as they ran, "Voldemort knows we're hunting Horcruxes now, and he's never cared about the state of his soul before, so what's to stop him from just grabbing a rock off the ground, killing a random Death Eater or something, and making another Horcrux?"

"Because he wants something flashy for a container and wants to save it for an important death," said Harry, "like maybe mine or something."

"Yeah, but he's really short on options though, wouldn't he do it just to be safe?"

"I think there's a small possibility that he might be aware that it wouldn't be the best idea," said Harry. "He was really disturbed when he realized he hadn't felt the destruction of the other bits of his soul. He knows protecting the only two he's got left is his only real chance."

"…Wow, that's actually vaguely intelligent of him," said Ron.

"I've heard it's possible sometimes, yeah."

* * *

"We're gonna be rewarded," said Crabbe: His voice was surprisingly soft for such an enormous person; Harry had hardly ever heard him speak before apart from that one time Ron was Polyjuiced as him and had his voice.

* * *

He was standing in the middle of a desolate but strangely familiar room, with peeling paper on the walls and all the windows boarded except for one. Why Voldemort chose to chillax here of all places when Pettigrew must have told him that a filthy half-breed had once used it with regularity, Harry did not know, but there he was.

* * *

Harry wriggled into the earthy passage hidden in the tree's roots. It was a much tighter squeeze than it had been the last time they had entered it. The tunnel was low-ceilinged: They had had to double up to move through it nearly four years previously; now there was nothing for it but to crawl, which is why Sirius was able to make Snape hover vertically in front of him as he _walked and talked with Harry _and why Remus and Ron could hold Pettigrew between them while they walked _upright._ Besides, there is absolutely no way they would've been able to sneak a fully grown werewolf out into the grounds if the tunnel was really that narrow, especially if a much bigger dog and a _huge-ass deer_ was supposed to be guiding him out: James would've had to be crawling pretty frantically if he didn't want Moony to nom him. Also considering Remus would've been heavily injured after each run of this, I don't care if you have potions and magic to help fight infections, it's still kind of a horribly bad and _needlessly painful_ thing to do, and I just don't think Dumbledore would've let it happen like that. Unless of course the tunnel's been collapsing over time or the Carrows fixed it like that so fewer people could get through or something…

* * *

"…my Lord, their resistance is crumbling—"

"—and it is doing so without your help," said Voldemort in his high, clear voice. "Skilled wizard though you are, Severus, I do not think you will make much difference now. We are almost there…almost."

"My Lord, in the unlikely event that someone tries to escape the fight through the tunnel that leads to this Shack, perhaps it would be prudent to enchant the place so that no one may overhear our important conversations? After all, it was a lack of this foresight on Dumbledore's part in a separate building in this village that allowed me access to part of the original prophecy, and I'd _hate_ to compare you to such an idiotic and incompetent wizard as _that."_

"Oh please, Severus, who would eavesdrop on _us_ unless they had a severe death wish?"

"Potter. Who may or may not actually have a death wish, I've never been able to completely pin that down…"

"Ah, whatever. Tell me a story about how you were beaten by bees in your youth."

* * *

"But my Lord, Potter might be accidentally killed by one other than yourself—"

"My instructions to my Death Eaters have been perfectly clear. Capture Potter. Kill his friends — the more, the better — but do not kill him."

"Forgive me, my Lord, but not all of your followers are the brightest knives in the crayon box. Also there are the giants and acromantulas to consider."

"…Oh shit, you're right!"

"Someone fucked up and it was you."

* * *

And Voldemort swiped the air with the Elder Wand. It did nothing to Snape, who for a split second seemed to think he had been reprieved: But then Voldemort's intention became clear. The snake's cage was rolling through the air, and before Snape could do anything more than yell, it had encased him, head and shoulders, and Voldemort spoke in Parseltongue.

"_Kill."_

"…_Wait, wouldn't that make _me_ the master of the Elder Wand according to your logic?"_ asked Nagini, staring at Voldemort in puzzlement. _"Surely it would've been better to just cast a quick Killing Curse and have done with it?"_

"_I think I've started to grow wary of the Killing Curse at long last,"_ Voldemort replied._ "And don't call me Shirley!"_

"_Oh, so you're not going to use it on Potter during your final confrontation, considering you've learned your lesson so well?"_

"_Why don't you be a big hero and fuck off somewhere else."_

* * *

Voldemort swept from the room without a backward glance, and the great serpent floated after him in its huge protective case.

"…_You're not going to make sure he's dead first?"_ Nagini asked him. _"He might have some sudden last-minute antidote he's been keeping on-hand ever since he saw me and looked up what kind of snake I was."_

"_He would never do that,"_ Voldemort waved off her concerns airily. _"That would suggest that he actually survives this book."_

"_Yes, but what if there's still some last-ditch effort to try and save him, or at least to get some last-minute information off of him? 'Cause all this walking-away-without-finishing-the-job-and-just-assuming-everything'll-go-according-to-keikaku bullshit just makes you look about as intelligent as the average Bond villain, i.e. not very."_

"_You worry too much, Nagini."_

"_I'm not the one who made six or more Horcruxes out of paranoia and desperation!"_

"_Well then I'm an asshole."_

"_You are."_

* * *

A terrible rasping, gurgling noise issued from Snape's throat.

"Knew I'd…fucking…die here…I guess…irony…can be…pretty…ironic…sometimes…"

* * *

"You have fought," said the high, cold voice, "valiantly. Lord Voldemort knows how to value bravery.

"Yet you have sustained heavy losses. Continue to resist, and you will all be killed, one by one.

"But! There need not be war between us! You've all fought so valiantly that I am willing to offer you positions in my new world order (as my slaves). Give up now and be forgiven. I command my Death Eaters to stand down.

"You have one hour. See, told you I'd give you another hour! Ain't I just the swellest?

"Now, Harry Potter, I speak directly to you. If you do not wish for those closest to you to continue to suffer, and die, on your behalf, you will come face me yourself. I'll be waiting for you, in the Forbidden Forest, for one hour."

"Where in the Forbidden Forest?" asked Harry.

"...Iunno, check your Map or something. But if at the end of that hour you have not come to face me, have not turned yourself in, the battle recommences. This time, Potter, I shall enter the fray myself. And I will find you. And I will _murder_ every last man—"

Ron gasped, his hand covering his mouth.

"—woman—"

Hermione gasped, her hand covering her mouth.

"—and child—"

"No!" Draco gasped, his hand covering his mouth.

"—who has tried to conceal you from me. Voldemort out, bitches."

* * *

Okay, seriously, narrative, why is this the only time in the entire septology where you use Remus's given name, and then immediately switch back to his surname two paragraphs later and for the rest of the book again? Was it just for additional shock value for the moment we, the audience, find out about his death or what, why the one change that was never seen again even though Harry's supposedly on first-name terms with the guy now, when the hell did that even start by the way?

While Pottermore answers none of this, it does show new and interesting insight into Remus's death. According to Pottermore, Dolohov managed to get one over on Remus because Remus was apparently rusty from not constantly dueling…Which, when compared to other characters, doesn't make any sense. Sirius was still able to hold his own against Bellatrix for quite some time and only got killed because he got cocky, and somehow I doubt he was able to practice much himself, with the Order gone half the time and most of the items in the house immune to magic and the fact that for the last few months Kreacher was hardly around either.

And then there's Molly. While I also smile at the legendary "NOT MY DAUGHTER YOU BITCH" line, even if I did kinda wish it was Neville or Augusta who got Bellatrix in the end but whatever, Molly is never once shown to be good at dueling, unless she took on all those missions Remus was said to have turned down so he could look after Tonks and the as-yet-unborn Teddy. And don't give me that bullshit that her daughter was in danger so it was her motherly instinct that killed Bellatrix because Remus and Tonks had their own parental instincts going for them: It's the reason they were fighting in the battle in the first place.

This whole thing is contradictorily unfair, and only makes me more upset at Remus and Tonks's deaths.

* * *

The stone Pensieve lay in the cabinet where it had always been: Harry heaved it onto the desk and poured Snape's memories into the wide basin with its runic markings around the edge. To escape into someone else's head would be a blessed relief…Nothing that even Snape had left him could be worse than his own thoughts. He only hoped that it wouldn't take too long; he didn't want to risk Voldemort giving him _another_ hour if he didn't finish in time.

* * *

"You _are,"_ said Snape to Lily. "You _are_ a witch. I've been watching you for a while. But there's nothing wrong with that."

"Yes there is," said Lily instantly. "There is _definitely_ something wrong with stalking someone, you creepy, creepy-arse dude."

"Hey, it's not like I watch you while you sleep or anything!"

"What, you want brownie points for not being as creepy as you could be? Doesn't stop the original creep-factor!"

"Eight-year-olds, dude," muttered Petunia, shaking her head.

"Thought they were, like, nine," said Harry.

"Shut up and let me make references."

* * *

"What's Potter got to do with anything?" said Lily.

"They sneak out at night. There's something weird about that Lupin. Where does he keep going?"

"He's ill," said Lily. "They say he's ill—"

"Every month at the night of the full moon?" said Snape.

"I know your theory," said Lily, and she sounded cold.

"Well what other theory is there?" said Snape, throwing up his arms. "If he's ill, shouldn't Pomfrey be able to deal with it? If he's ill enough to go to St. Mungo's, shouldn't he stay there until whatever he's got is resolved? If he's really continuously that ill, shouldn't he be quarantined, kept away from others so they don't catch whatever he's got? Like if what he's got is _lycanthropy_, for instance? Have you even _read_ about any of the symptoms, everything fits!"

"Oh would you quit picking on that poor boy, already," said Lily in exasperation, clearly not catching on at all, "it's not his fault he has such a weak immune system!"

"…Your son really will inherit your eyes, won't he, considering you're _fucking blind."_

"Seriously, I don't understand what you're trying to tell me here."

"Fuck it, Potter can have you, I'm so done with this bullshit…"

* * *

"I know James Potter's an arrogant toerag," Lily said, cutting across Snape. "I don't need you to tell me that. But Mulciber's and Avery's idea of humor is just evil. _Evil,_ Sev. I don't understand how you can be friends with them."

"Because they're also presumably in my year in Slytherin and thus I presumably have to sleep in the same room as them and if you've seen the way they treat the people outside their house who don't agree with them what d'you think they're going to do to _me_ if I don't at least pretend to go along with them? I mean, I already probably have to sleep with one eye open just so I don't get cursed in my sleep for hanging out with _you!"_

"…I never thought of it like that…" said Lily slowly. "This makes me think we should probably stop meeting—"

"I didn't mean that!" Snape cut across her immediately, looking panicked. "We don't have to stop being friends, I'll deal with it, it's really no—"

"No, that's not what I meant either," said Lily swiftly. "This'll just be until we graduate and you're no longer sharing a room with these people, yeah? Then you and I can be openly friends and you won't have to worry about the repercussions anymore. What you just said got me worried, Sev, I don't want to see you get hurt."

Snape's face lit up.

"So…we just _pretend_ we're not friends until after…And then things'll go back to normal?"

"It might be good to have it be really convincing, though," said Lily, rubbing her chin and obviously thinking. "Maybe if you called me 'Mudblood' in a very public area of the school where there's a bunch of students watching, that'll probably get them off your back…"

"…You sure you want me to call you that?" said Snape hesitantly, staring at her.

"Hey, whatever keeps you safe," she said, smiling at him.

And then Snape's Worst Memory happened and they discreetly high-fived later and instantly became friends again the moment they graduated but Lily still dated James and explained everything to him and James did admit that that was a really good thing to do for a friend and so he and his friends relaxed their attitude considerably towards Snape who was only semi-nice to James for Lily's benefit once she married him. **Because she was under absolutely no obligation to start going out with Snape if she didn't feel the same way he did,** and since Snape was a _real_ nice guy he didn't get butthurt after being friendzoned; he continued to be her best friend even as he continued to pine in secret, though on the whole he was just glad that she was still alive and that James and Harry and their other children made her happy.

Lily also managed to talk Snape out of becoming a Death Eater, though she never completely killed his interest in the Dark Arts, and as it was his passion she thought it was fine as long as he used it on the right people and at least refrained from using Unforgiveables. And because Snape wasn't a Death Eater, he didn't even hear the prophecy much less rat it out to Voldemort, though once Dumbledore heard it he sent the Potters and Longbottoms into hiding anyway, the Potters using Snape as Secret-Keeper because Sirius was too obvious and James knew he'd keep Lily safe at least, where they lived in safety even as the war continued around them, though having one more person visibly on their side and not afraid to hold back gave them a huge advantage and they eventually managed to keep the Death Eaters at bay even as Dumbledore researched a way to bring Voldemort down for good. All was well.

* * *

"The — the prophecy…the prediction…Trelawney…"

"Ah, yes," said Dumbledore. "How much did you relay to Lord Voldemort?"

"Everything — everything I heard!" said Snape. "That is why — it is for that reason — he thinks it means Lily Evans!"

"The prophecy did not refer to a woman," said Dumbledore. "It spoke of a boy born at the end of July, a woman would have _nothing_ to do with anyone's birth!"

* * *

"You disgust me," said Dumbledore, and Harry had never heard so much contempt in his voice. Snape seemed to shrink a little. "You do not care, then, about the deaths of her husband and child? They can die, as long as you have what you want?"

"Well the Dark Lord's not gonna _not_ kill the child, there's no way I'd persuade him to change his mind about that, I'd be killed on the spot and I wouldn't have been able to warn you, and…yeah no, I don't really care if Potter bites it, you got me there, but…Hide them all, then," he croaked. "Keep her — them — safe. Please."

"And what will you give me in return, Severus?"

"In — in return?" Snape gaped at Dumbledore, and Harry expected him to protest, which he did, though not the way Harry thought he would. "You're asking me to give you something so you'd agree to save people who are on _your side_ and who are a couple of your _best fighters_, people who are housing the boy who I just basically _told_ you is the Chosen One. What if I refuse to do anything else other than give you this information, would you have just left them be without even _attempting _the Fidelius?!"

"Probably," said Dumbledore, shrugging.

"…You're a dick," said Snape.

"You say that like it's a bad thing."

"But it _is!_ This…Forget it, just forget it."

"It's better that way."

"I'm so glad I switched sides…"

* * *

"Her boy survives," said Dumbledore.

"Yes," muttered Snape, who with a tiny jerk of his head seemed to flick off an irksome fly. "Because Potter's seed is exactly what I was hoping would survive."

"Well there you go."

"THAT WAS SARCASM, YOU FUCKING FUCKFACE."

* * *

"It is a miracle you managed to return here!" Snape sounded furious. "That ring carried a curse of extraordinary power, to contain it is all we can hope for; I have trapped the curse in one hand for the time being—"

Dumbledore raised his blackened, useless hand, and examined it with the expression of one being shown an interesting curio.

"You have done very well, Severus. How long do you think I have?"

Dumbledore's tone was conversational; he might have been asking for a weather forecast. Snape hesitated, and then said, "I cannot tell. Maybe a year. There is no halting such a spell forever. It will spread eventually, it is the sort of curse that strengthens over time."

"What if we cut off my whole arm?"

"…I have no idea, wanna try it?"

"Sure, why the hell not? Do it now, I'm still out of it."

"Alrighty then, _diffindo! Incendio! Ferula!"_ Snape swiftly cleaned up the blood and waved his wand over Dumbledore's new stump, muttering for a bit, then turned to the headmaster. "Totally gone, nice call."

"Awesome. Now to learn to write with my left hand…"

"…Dude, dictating quills and stuff."

"Yeah but signatures though."

"Ah, fair enough."

* * *

"I am concerned less for myself than for accidental victims of whatever schemes might occur to the boy, which is why I will do nothing to halt him nor to send various Order members to kidnap both him and his mother and stick them somewhere safe until Harry and I manage to rid the world of Voldemort once and for all so he _won't_ concoct various schemes that cause accidental victims."

* * *

"You have kept him alive so that he can die at the right moment, while also throwing him into perilous situation after perilous situation even though you didn't want him to die quite yet?"

"Well to be fair, I didn't know what he was his first year, I only found out in his second."

"Oh well that just makes everything so much better, does it? Yes much better to fantasize about finishing off a twelve-year-old than an eleven-year-old—"

"Which is why it's usually only second years that can start playing Quidditch, you should be used to this method of thinking by now."

"I have spied for you and lied for you, put myself in mortal danger for you. Everything was supposed to be to keep Lily Potter's son safe. Now you tell me you have been raising him like a pig for slaughter—"

"Of course! Where else do you think I'd get the bacon for my clam chowder?"

"…Are you…all right, Headmaster?"

"I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHERE I AM RIGHT NOW!"

"Oh dear."

"Oh no. I'M FREAKING OUT. _THE DREAM IS COLLAPSING."_

* * *

_A/N: ONE MORE CHAPTER AND I'M DONE WITH PARODYING HP FOREVER HOW IS THIS EVEN THE WHAT._

_**Review or Voldemort will give you an hour to live. And then he will give you another hour.**_


	6. Months Are The Same As Days, Right?

_A/N: OH MY GOD I'M DONE HOW DID THIS HAPPEN I CAN'T EVEN. Oh and also, if you're in Ravenclaw, Pottermore's hinting that you're gonna get an update earlier than the rest of us pretty soon, so you might wanna try and remember what your username and password is so you can brag about knowing things without telling us so we all know you were Sorted correctly. XD_

_So in order for this chapter to go on this website, I had to cut out two entire sections because of references to songs which was the whole point of the joke. If you don't feel like checking the Archive Of Our Own version, just know that I essentially turned Voldefetus into the singing, dancing frog from the old Warner Bros. cartoon. *grumbles* Spaceballs could do it and it was a parody, I'm not even merchandising...Oh, and Luna was a distraction. Yes._

_In other news, fuck Nickelodeon. It knows what it did._

**Disclaimer:** Aaand Dracarot helped out right till the end, go him. And that one _Airplane! _line will never not be funny. Nor will Two Best Friends Play, and nor will JewWario, and nor will _Kung Pow: Enter the Fist_, and nor will A Very Potter Musical, and nor will all the horrible, horrible deaths of all the characters we know and love.

* * *

"Explain," said Harry.

"But you already know," said Dumbledore. He twiddled his thumbs together.

"So even after we're both dead you won't give me a fucking straight answer?"

"Nope!"

"I hate you and I hate that Quidditch team you like."

"Gasp!"

* * *

Harry was distracted by the whimpering and thumping of the agonized creature behind them and glanced back at it yet again.

"Are you sure we can't do anything?"

"There is no help possible."

"Well _that's_ an awful message: If a child has a physical disability or something you should just leave it and not even attempt to help it at all? JKR _founded_ the Lumos organization so that children with disabilities _wouldn't_ be separated from their families and _would_ be given proper help, why is she telling us to fuck off here?!"

"Because the infant back there is supposed to be a representation of all that's left of Voldemort's soul and this is showing what's waiting for him after he dies, his own personal hell, and frankly he probably really deserves it."

"But that doesn't mean we can't reach out to him now, I mean what harm can he do us here after we're already dead? And you're supposed to be better than this, you're all about second chances, Voldemort's the only one you never even gave a _first_ chance to, so why not try and make up for it now, you have the time!"

"Shut up. Shut up, Harry. I'm super smart. You're not super smart. That's how the gimmick works. Now shut up, though."

"This explains a lot about why you suck at everything."

* * *

"But if my wand was so powerful, how come Hermione was able to break it?"

"My dear boy, its remarkable effects were directed only at Voldemort, who had tampered so ill-advisedly with the deepest laws of magic. Only toward him was that wand abnormally powerful. Otherwise it was a wand like any other…though a good one, I am sure," Dumbledore finished kindly.

"But Hermione was fighting Nagini, who was a part of Voldemort, so why didn't my wand notice that and protect itself again?"

"…MY HEAD IS MADE OF BUTTER!"

"Okay."

"I'M A PRETTY POMEGRANATE!"

* * *

"You have guessed, I know, why the Cloak was in my possession on the night your parents died. James had showed it to me just a few days previously, even though I had it since before your birthday according to Lily's letter and your parents died on Halloween. Months are the same as days, right?"

* * *

"I was safer at Hogwarts. I think I was a good teacher—"

"You were the best—"

"—you never actually had me as a teacher so you have no way to judge that objectively, Harry."

* * *

"And Voldemort never knew about the Hallows?"

"I do not think so, because he did not recognize the Resurrection Stone he turned into a Horcrux. But even if he had know about them, Harry, I doubt that he would have been interested in any except the first. He would not think that he needed the Cloak, and as for the stone, whom would he want to bring back from the dead? He fears the dead. He does not love."

"He still could've brought back Salazar Slytherin to not only milk him for knowledge but also to feel some connection to his Wizarding ancestry and have a sense of what Slytherin really had planned for his heir since sometimes legends get distorted over time."

"Nah, that doesn't make any sense."

"Your beard is ugly."

* * *

"_Is Draco alive? Is he in the castle?"_

The whisper was barely audible; her lips were an inch from his ear, her head bent so low that her long hair shielded his face from the onlookers.

"_Yes,"_ he breathed back.

"…_If you're lying I am so slitting your throat after you kill the Dark Lord."_

"_Noted."_

He felt the hand on his chest contract; her nails pierced him. Then it was withdrawn. She had sat up.

"He is dead!" Narcissa Malfoy called to the watchers.

"No he isn't," said Voldemort immediately. "Lord Voldemort can always tell if someone's lying."

"…Occlumency?"

"Maybe…"

* * *

…You know, the more I think about it, the more I think Molly should've screamed "NOT _ANOTHER_, YOU BITCH!" or something similar instead, considering this is just outright confirming that she prefers Ginny over the rest of her living children, _WHO ARE ALSO STILL FIGHTING._

* * *

"Who are you going to use as a shield today, Potter?" Voldemort hissed.

"Nobody," said Harry simply. "There are no more Horcruxes. It's just you and me. You killed my family. And I don't like that kind of thing."

* * *

"Dumbledore was trying to keep the Elder Wand from me! He intended that Snape should be the true master of the wand! But I got ahead of you, little boy—"

"Dude, I'm nearly eighteen."

"Shut up, I reached the wand before you could get your hands on it, I understood the truth before you caught up, I killed Severus Snape three hours ago, and the Elder Wand, the Deathstick, the Wand of Destiny is truly mine!"

"…You gave me my ultimatum of one hour almost immediately after you killed Snape, then that hour elapsed, so unless the second part of the battle just now took two hours I'm willing to bet he's only been dead for like an hour and a half."

"You're in my life. Please leave."

* * *

"But before you try to kill me, _again_, I'd advise you to think about all the people you've hurt, Riddle, all the lives you've destroyed. All the people you've used, the people you've killed. Okay? Think, and try for some remorse, Riddle…"

"What is this?"

Of all the things that Harry had said to him, beyond any revelaiton or taunt, nothing had shocked Voldemort like this. Harry saw his pupils contract to thin slits, saw the skin around his eyes witen.

"It's your one last chance," said Harry, "it's all you've got left…I've seen what you'll be otherwise…Be a man…Maybe try a little slice of remorse pie…"

"The joke's on you, Potter, I don't care about anybody!" cheered Voldemort gleefully.

"I know!" cried Harry. "And that's what makes you such a piece of shit."

* * *

If the Killing Curse hasn't worked the last several times he's tried it, _**WHY IS HE TRYING IT YET AGAIN. AT LEAST USE A DIFFERENT AND EQUALLY LETHAL SPELL OR SOMETHING, JESUS FUCKING SHIT CHRIST.**_

* * *

"I don't want it," said Harry.

"What?" said Ron loudly. "Are you mental?"

"I know it's powerful," said Harry wearily. "But I was happier with mine."

"So what?" said Ron. "Do you know how messed up Hogwarts is right now? Just go outside and cast a quick _reparo_ on the castle at least, come on!"

"That wand's more trouble than it's worth," said Harry. "Which is why I'm just going to rebury it and not destroy it to make sure its power dies forever because I may _not_ die a natural death since no one really knows how they're going to die. And quite honestly," he turned away from the painted portraits, thinking now only of the four-poster bed lying waiting for him in Gryffindor Tower, and wondering whether Kreacher might bring him a sandwich there, "I've had enough trouble for a lifetime."

"Which is why you're going to join the Aurors," said Ron flatly.

"And also everyone heard you talk about how you owned the Elder Wand just now in the Great Hall, so they'll definitely be gunning for it now," said Hermione.

"And you also mentioned Horcruxes so now that that's in the public light people might try to make one or two of those now as well," added Ron.

"Not to mention the goblins are probably quite hacked off at the break-in at Gringotts, the escape of one of their dragons, and the slaughter of who knows how many of their people once Voldemort found out."

"EVERYTHING WORKED OUT PERFECTLY AND THERE ARE NO MORE ISSUES AT ALL EVER," said Harry uncaringly.

* * *

"It won't be long, and you'll be able to go too," Harry told her.

"Two years," sniffed Lily. "I want to go to the place where the finale of the war happened and loads and loads of people died _now!"_

"Hey yeah, don't they close schools where shootings happened in America in order to avoid _crippling trauma of small children?!"_ asked Ginny mildly.

"Oh since when has the Wizarding world given a single iota of a fuck about the emotional wellbeing of its children?" asked Harry.

"Fair point."

* * *

"I _won't!_ I _won't_ be in Slytherin!"

"James, give it a rest!" said Ginny.

"I only said he _might_ be," said James, grinning at his younger brother. "There's nothing wrong with that. Nineteen years have passed, surely some of the stigma against it would've lifted by now."

"You know it hasn't and don't call me Shirley."

* * *

"If you're not in Gryffindor, we'll disinherit you," said Ron, "but no pressure."

"_Ron!"_

Lily and Hugo laughed, but Albus and Rose looked solemn.

"He doesn't mean it," said Hermione, and Ginny added, "He works with Uncle George, you've got to learn to not take anything either of them says seriously."

Albus and Rose nodded in understanding, looking marginally more cheerful but also wondering how hard it would've been to fit that detail into the original text.

* * *

"Ron, for heaven's sake," said Hermione, half stern, half amused. "Don't try to turn them against each other before they've even started school!"

"You're right, sorry," said Ron, but unable to help himself, he added, "Don't get _too _friendly with him, though, Rosie. Granddad Weasley would never forgive you if you married a pureblood."

"What if I don't _want_ to get married?" asked Rose. "I think it's kind of messed up that every 'strong' female character had to be married to a man at some point, even McGonagall."

"I think it's more that we just enjoy propping our men up," said Ginny, nudging Harry, who grinned.

"And the whole series is supposed to be about love and family anyway," Harry added, "so of course most of the decent characters, male_ or_ female, got that chance if they weren't killed off, it seems."

"And who knows?" said Hermione condescendingly to her daughter. "You might feel that way now, but you might also change your mind if you meet the right person."

"And if I don't?" said a frustrated Rose, who isn't standing in for anyone in any way. Nope. Not at all. "If I decide I value friendships and platonic relationships over romantic ones and never have any interest in anyone and never marry at all? Will you disinherit me _then?"_

"No, but Grandma Weasley might," Ginny muttered darkly.

"Also she's eleven, why are you already planning the wedding, that's just messed up," said Albus.

"Oh go to school already," said Ron, rolling his eyes.

"Hey!"

James had reappeared; he had divested himself of his trunk, owl, and trolley, and was evidently bursting with news.

"Teddy's back there," he said breathlessly, pointing back over his shoulder into the billowing clouds of steam. "Just seen him! And guess what he's doing? _Snogging Victoire!"_

He gazed up at the adults, evidently disappointed by the lack of reaction.

_"Our _Teddy! _Teddy Lupin!_ Snogging _our_ Victoire! _Our_ cousin! And I asked Teddy what he was doing—"

"Okay seriously, why are you so surprised by this," asked Ginny, "and exactly how much do we shelter you kids from the press anyway? I know you don't understand why everyone's staring but as I bloody work for it we can't utterly prevent you from reading the _Prophet_ where, even if Rita's been exaggerating as she's known to do, she's at least been _implying_ that Teddy and Victoire have been dating for years!"

"And if she _was_ telling the truth at the 2014 Cup Final, or even hinting at it," added Harry, ignoring Lily's usual "Hey yeah, why wasn't I allowed to go to that? I wanted to meet Krum and watch the match too! _Hugo_ could go, and I have no idea how young/old he is compared to me, so why couldn't I?" whenever the topic came up, "it's not as though they were really being subtle about it; you probably should've noticed by now."

"Well apparently I'm the only one who's slightly put off by the fact that Teddy's probably known Victoire since she was born and he's probably been something like a brother to us, and people who've been raised like cousins/siblings/some other similar label for their entire lives suddenly getting romantically involved with each other seems just a tiny bit incestuous to me I guess," said James sullenly.

"Ron's like a brother to me and I married his sister," said Harry, shrugging. "And unless people follow Tonks's or Bill's examples and marry someone from an entirely different age group or country, most of us seem to marry the people we've known throughout our entire Hogwarts careers if not our entire Wizarding lives unless we go after a Muggle. Our world's kind of small and contained, I don't know if you've noticed."

"It's just weird, is all," James insisted.

"Oh, it would be lovely if Teddy and Victoire got married!" whispered Lily ecstatically. "Teddy would _really_ be part of the family then!"

"He already is," said Harry firmly, glaring slightly, and Lily looked down, ashamed.

* * *

"See you later, Al. Watch out for thestrals."

"I thought they were invisible? _You said they were invisible!"_

"Yeah, which means you could bump into them because you can't see them, so be careful."

"…Oh. That was weirdly nice of you. Who are you and what have you done with my brother."

* * *

"Albus Severus," said Harry quietly, so that nobody but Ginny could hear, and she was tactful enough to pretend to be waving to Rose, who was now on the train, "you were named for two headmasters of Hogwarts. One of them was a Slytherin and he was probably the bravest man I ever knew."

"But wasn't he kind of a huge dirtbag who had a major attitude problem and the one thing people remember him for nowadays is that he desperately wanted to bone my dead grandmother and never got over the fact that he couldn't? And isn't my first name after a guy who forced you to grow up in an abusive environment and plotted your death since you were twelve?"

"Shut your butt."

* * *

"But if it matters to you, you'll be able to choose Gryffindor over Slytherin. The Sorting Hat takes your choice into account."

"But Neville —sorry, Professor Longbottom — said he tried to choose Hufflepuff and the Hat forced him into Gryffindor."

"…Well it did for me and you're my kid."

"…About that, all of the first years in your year and supposedly most subsequent years were completely unaware of the whole Sorting process; Uncle Ron thought you'd have to wrestle a troll or something. So are you just continuing to be the son of a Marauder and just told me regardless of the unwritten rule to keep us in suspense, or can James or possibly an older cousin or whatever Teddy qualifies as just not keep a secret?"

"You know I don't believe in hiding things kids should definitely know about."

"This is true, never mind."

* * *

_A/N: And that's it. Done with parodying Harry Potter for a while, at least until the Fantastic Beasts movies come out and then we'll see what happens. Though this doesn't mean I'm done writing Harry Potter fanfiction, not by a long shot. Expect a dumb oneshot on the twentieth of August to celebrate the fourth anniversary of me typing stupid Harry Potter things on the internet, and in October I WILL start posting that Silent Hill crossover, dammit! I'm trying to make it so you don't have to know anything about Silent Hill in order to read it, but it's gonna be...different from the parodies. Like...way darker. WAAAAY way darker. So if that's not your thing and you only read my stuff for the comedy, I have absolutely no issue if any of you choose to stay as far away as possible from that one. Come back sometime next year when I start parodying Kingdom Hearts, exclusively on Archive Of Our Own because that website doesn't consider script format an original sin like ff dot net does. Not that I'm bitter. _-_-

_Thank you all so much for sticking with me as far as you have. I'll miss you guys._

_**Mischief Managed.**_


End file.
